


Two Pieces

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baby Harry, Baby Zayn, Cat/Human Hybrids, Harry and Zayn are children but also hybrids, Homelessness, Hybrid Harry, Hybrid Liam, Hybrid Niall, Hybrid Zayn, Hybrids, M/M, Sexual Content, Some warnings might appear at the beginning of chapters, Soulmates, tomlinshaw friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam is the piece of Louis that brings his life together, the piece that fixes the cracks in his heart. Liam is the piece that gives Louis a purpose.</p><p>Louis is the piece of Liam that brings everything together, the piece that fixes all his broken edges. Louis is the piece that gives Liam hope. </p><p>Together, they're the pieces that found love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know or own anyone. This work is my own and it is not featured on any other site, nor does anyone have my permission to repost it in its entirety. Thank you!!!

Louis sips his tea carefully, red pen stuffed behind his ear and highlighter in hand as he scans over the latest copy of his latest book. He reads through it agonizingly slow, hoping that he’ll be able making it through a quick edit before he has to head into work. He highlights a section of the text, dropping the marker down and grabbing red pen as he scribbles in some corrections. It’s a children’s book so there aren’t many corrections to be made, not enough text to truly fuck it up, not like if he were a novelist or something. 

He’s been trying for years to get published, working his ass off since he graduated university two years ago, but he hasn’t had any luck. Publishers either ignore him or tell him that his stories aren’t creative enough. He happens to think he has a lot of creativity inside of him, thank you very much. But not many other people agree. It’s been a rough couple years but with the help of his friend, Nick he’s been able to afford to buy a tiny little two bedroom house in an area of town that is decent and not at all run down. He lives by a park where single parents or budding families take their children, it hasn’t seen much action since it’s the dead of winter, but it’s a nice place to live. 

Louis can also thank Nick for getting him a job and helping to make sure Louis doesn’t starve to death before he gets his first book published. Granted, a job, as Nick’s assistant in his architecture firm isn’t exactly what Louis had in mind as his dream career, it does keep a roof over his head and food on his table. 

Louis drops the papers down on the table, taking the final sips of his tea and shoving the rest of his muffin in his mouth when he sees that he should have left five minutes ago. Despite knowing that he’s going to be late, Louis takes his time shoving on his boots, lacing them up slowly, and getting his coat on. Nick will never fire him, not when he’s hungry and starving and in desperate need of the money. 

Louis kind of loves his life, despite the many holes in it. 

~~~~

On his way to work every morning Louis stops into a coffee shop, a small place, quiet and homey. He’s been in here at all hours of the day, his favorite place to come when he was in university and was trying to come up with clever ideas for his books. It’s never packed, not usually, but they make his tea just the way he likes it, with nothing inside of it, and they don’t stare at him questionably when he says it, which is another reason to worship this place. It’s also one of the only places that Nick, his boss, will actually drink coffee from, rich, snobby brat he is. 

It’s on his way to grab their usual morning drinks, paid for on company credit card, that he sees the same lonely boy he’s spotted the past several days in a row. He’s wrapped in a thin blanket, staring blankly ahead of him, avoiding eye contact with people. He doesn’t have a cup next to him, not begging people to spare some change. He just looks cold, like he’s been sitting outside for longer than a person should. He feels sympathy for him, having to sit outside in the dead of winter because he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. It looks like he’s only wearing a sweater, a beanie pulled tight over his head as he shivers, a gust of wind making it even more cold outside. 

Louis bundles under his coat, clutching it closer to his chest as he brushes past the boy and into the coffee shop four shops down. 

The shop owner has his order ready, knowing Louis’ schedule by heart on the working days. He hands him his card and when he’s ringing it up he says, “Can you add a hot chocolate and one of them croissants, please?” 

The shop owner nods his head, punching in a few more keys on the register before he hands Louis back his card, shifting around behind the counter for a bear before he’s stuffing another drink in the carrier and handing Louis a brown paper bag. 

Louis smiles at him, says thanks and leaves the shop. He glances behind him to see the boy still bundled up against the brick building. It’s still early enough in the morning that not many people are outside; he won’t have to go and hide in the alleys, a place he’s assuming he goes during the day since Louis has never seen him on his lunch break. Regardless, he trudges back through the melting snow and makes his way over towards the boy. Squatting down in front of him, Louis smiles, holding the bag out in front of him. 

“I got you breakfast, well, my boss did actually, it’s his money. Also, thought you might want to warm up a bit, so I bought you this.” He plucks the drink out of the carrier and passes it over, watching as the boy stares at him, puzzlement and apprehension written across his face. “Don’t thank me,” Louis says, knowing full well that the man isn’t going to open his mouth. “It’s cold out, you could use a warm meal. Eat up, all right? Maybe later I’ll have a thicker blanket or something; it’s too cold out for that thing. If you get hungry go to the coffee shop down the road, tell them you’re a friend of Louis and that I’ll pay for you when I come in the next day.” 

Louis doesn’t know what makes him feel so charitable, he’s never stopped to help the homeless before. But there’s something about this guy, his big, brown eyes staring at Louis, like he can see through him. He’s got a plump bottom lip, his chin covered in a little hair from not having shaved in what Louis thinks might be a couple weeks. The guy shivers, clutching the hot chocolate to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t smile, but Louis can hear him sigh, releasing a deep breath after he breathes in the taste of the drink. 

And Louis doesn’t need a thanks, because he tell just from looking at him the guy’s day has been made, and that’s enough for Louis. 

~~~~ 

Louis’ gets to work a few minutes early; he ignores the waving and spoken greetings from his coworkers, choosing instead to keep his head down and make his way to his desk without trying to get some kind of bullshit office attachment. People only want to talk to him because he works for the boss, and not because they want to schedule something with him, or because they want to ask him a question. No, these people want to kiss his ass, want to try and further their career and Louis really, really doesn’t have time for it. He bypasses his office and shoves his way into Nick’s, using his shoulder to push open his door. 

“I spit in your coffee,” he says as greeting, setting the paper cup down and smiling at his boss. 

Nick rolls his eyes, picking up the cup and taking a tentative sip. “Tastes lovely, Louis’ backwash, exactly what I was looking forward to this morning, thank you, love.” 

“Anything for you, boss,” Louis says, taking a seat in the leather chair across from Nick’s desk. “So, you’ve got a meeting in thirty minutes, a Korean man, I can’t remember his name, haven’t gotten on my computer this morning.” 

“Mr. Yoon,” Nick interrupts. “He called and cancelled, you weren’t here so I had to answer your phone. Imagine me, Nick Grimshaw, answering his assistant’s phone.” 

“All right, well, you have two other meetings today. Stacey Klein, not sure what she wants, said something about you designing the house her and her almost dying husband are building, but she’s been here before, so I’m sure you remember her. Fake tits and blonde hair, super fucking old husband.” 

“Louis, you’re not supposed to voice your judgments on clients.” 

“It’s not a judgment, it’s a face of life,” Louis says primly, taking a sip of his tea. “She’s twenty-five at most and her husband looks like my great-great grandfather. He’s eighty-three. I’m not judging, I’m saying what was thrown in my face last time they were here.” 

“Whatever,” Nick says, rolling his eyes. “What else do I have today?” 

“Your other meeting is with a man, not sure what he looks like since he hasn’t been in before, new client. He said his name was John, wouldn’t give me a last name, so be careful with him. Panic button is under your desk, don’t knee it again, security said they’re not running down here again for your spindly legs.” 

“I cannot wait until you sell one of your books, you’re dedicating it to me.” 

“Not sure you can dedicate a children’s book to ‘Nick Grimshaw, my pompous asshole boss, thanks for keeping me off the streets.’ Publisher, and many, many parents wouldn’t like it much,” Louis says, taking another sip of his tea. 

“You’re absolutely pleasant this morning.” 

“Thank you,” Louis says, ignoring the blatant sarcasm in Nick’s tone. “Also, I need to leave early. Not desperately early, but clock out about thirty minutes early, thirty paid minutes early.” 

“Why?” Nick asks. 

Louis knows that Nick will give him the time, even pay him for it, and probably write down that he stayed over time to help Louis get a little extra cash. It’s what he does, makes sure that Louis doesn’t die of starvation while he waits for his dreams to take off. If Nick’s not making up fake hours, he’s giving Louis odd jobs, making him do his laundry, clean his apartment, walk his dog, anything to help give him a little extra cash. 

“There’s a homeless man on Chestnut, I wanted to buy him a new blanket,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. “The one he has now won’t get him through another snow storm, not this winter.” 

“Use your card,” Nick says, taking another sip of his coffee before he goes back to working on his models.

Louis nods his head, taking his cue to leave and heads out to his desk. It’s not a bad desk, it’s right outside Nick’s door and Louis gets to boss people around who try to come and see him, scaring them away if he’s in a bad mood, or laughing with them until Nick comes out annoyed and brings the person inside. It’s not his favorite job, not even his ideal one, but Nick helps him out, so he’s grateful. Besides, he likes being able to get paid to answer phones and play computer games all day. 

~~~~

Louis pulls his coat around his body a little tighter, tugging his beanie down a little further as he makes his way through the snow. He has to pick his feet up a little higher as he walks, doing his best to make it through the slushy mess of snow and water and ice underneath his feet. The wind is whipping around wildly, piercing through his jacket as he continues on his journey home. It’s abnormally cold outside, not unusual for winter, but it’s been a fairly decent week, the temperature reasonably above freezing allowing the snow to melt from the last snow storm but now it’s barreling down quickly, giant flecks of snow falling and melting instantly on his beanie and jacket, causing them to dampen and adhere to his body a little better. 

The blankets he bought are in the bag around his wrist, blankets because he settled on buying two. One made of thick wool, the other made of fleece, something softer so the guy won’t have to deal with the itch of the wool. 

Making his way down Chestnut, Louis glances around, taking in the lights strung in between lampposts, all left over from the Holidays. It lights the street up, bringing warmth to the city, taking away from the dreadful weather and cold upon them. He feels a little worried when he doesn’t spot the man in his same spot that he was earlier. He frowns, stopping to look around. He doesn’t see him immediately, but he spots him, the homeless man. He’s bundled up until one of the street lamps, resting his head against the pole. Snow is covering his blanket and Louis feels bad, knows that whatever pants he’s wearing are probably beginning to soak through and stick to his legs, making everything colder than it needs to be. 

Louis sighs, trying not to feel pity for the man as he steps forward carefully. The man’s awake, he startles when Louis nears him, fumbling back a bit as he stares up at Louis with wide eyes. 

“Um, I brought you something,” says Louis, holding the back up in the air. “Blankets, two of them, actually. I was thinking about you at work this morning and it’s so cold, I can’t just leave you out here with that flimsy old thing, so I bought these. I know that it, uh, it might not be what you want, but it’ll keep you warm.” 

The man just stares at Louis, he doesn’t glance at the bag, just looks at Louis, like he’s nervous about what might happen. 

“This isn’t charity,” Louis says stupidly, his mouth moving before he knows what he really wants to say. “Sorry, that was rude. I just meant, like, I’m not doing this to feel better about myself or to make you feel worse about yourself. You seem like you don’t want anyone’s help, or anything, but it’s snowing and I’m sure all the shelters are full, so here, please take these.” 

Once again the man just looks at Louis, brown eyes sparkling under the yellow light of the streetlight. Louis sighs, realizing that efforts are futile and if the man doesn’t want to take the blankets, well, Louis’ not opposed to doing his own thing. He pulls the wool one out first, tugging off the paper and unfolding it before doing the same with the fleece. He maneuvers them around in his hands until they’re lying on top of each other and then he bends down, folding them over the man’s body. 

He doesn’t say anything but Louis feels him stiffen under his touch. 

Louis exams his work, nodding in satisfaction with the man’s shivers lessen and his teeth chatter together a little less. He looks at him for a moment longer before he pulls his own beanie off his head, shoving down on top of the one he’s already wearing. “There,” Louis says. “You have to keep your head covered. My mother always told me that it’s very important, something about your head holding all your heat, or no. Maybe it’s all the heat is lost in your head? I’m not sure, but basically, if you want to keep warm, then your head needs to be covered. Have your gloves?” 

The man nods slightly, his shoulders visibly relaxing. 

“Good,” Louis says, nodding his head. “I’ll see you in the morning, bring you another bit of hot chocolate and maybe a bagel this time, yeah? In the mean time, stay warm, please.” 

The man beneath him nods but doesn’t say anything and Louis doesn’t know what to think about that, not really anyway. He waves at him before he continues his journey home, walking a little faster as the wind nips at his bare ears. 

~~~~ 

The first thing Louis does when he gets home is shed off his snow gear, dropping it all on the floor in his entry way, tossing his keys in the bowl on the end table before he heads over towards his fire place and starts a fire. His house is small, and could possibly use a little work, but the fireplace is Louis’ favorite part, especially in the cold winter months. 

He waits until it’s started up, fire crackling and heating up his house before he heads up to his bedroom, changing into flannel bottoms and a sweatshirt, thick wool socks on his feet, dragging across the floor as he makes his way back towards the lower level of his house. 

He grabs his printed copy of his book off his kitchen table, carrying it into the living room to begin his next edit. He wants to make this one perfect, hoping it’ll be the one that someone picks up, anyone really, Louis’ not picky. He’d love to get an agent, a publisher, anything that’ll help him be able to quit his job at Nick’s firm. 

His latest book is about a snail. It’s a non traditional animal, but he thinks maybe people are tired of the same books about the same cat and dog and pig and horse and whatever other animal that people are obsessing over this week. He’s already tried turtles, elephants, the praying mantis, and many more, but he feels a little differently about this book, this one with an orange snail with a blue and green shell, a pair of glasses and a backpack. He’s not an artist, not in the slightest, but he did buy a pack of markers just so he could draw out what Hank, his lovely snail out. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, a book about a snail, but all children’s books are ridiculous, Louis is ridiculous and that’s why he loves it, why he wants to get one of his stories published. 

He spends the night working on, thinking up new ideas and tweaking his current one until his eyes get too heavy to stay open, eyelids slowly drifting closed, head dropping forward. Louis takes it as a sign, dropping the papers down on the table. 

He falls asleep on his couch, fire cracking on the other side of the room, a copy of his latest book on the table, and warm, brown eyes on his mind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions a brief (very brief) instance of physical violence and injury. It's not graphic and very quick, but these things bother people, so please be advised.

Louis is walking down the street, melting snow sloshing under his feet as he makes his way to work. He feels a bit happier this morning, not having to deal with falling snow and that it’s melting, the temperature rising high enough that the snow can melt. It’s still unbearably cold outside, but it makes him feel a little bit better to watch as the snow turns to water and disappears down the sewers and drains. 

He’s on Chestnut; nearing the location of the homeless man he gave the meal and blanket too yesterday. He’s still lying in his spot, feet pulled up against his chest and three blankets thrown over his body. He looks warmer this morning, if not still a little bit cold. 

Louis approaches him, smiling when the man looks up at him. “Did the new blankets help you out last night? You’ve got a bit of pink in your cheeks this morning. It’s nice to see, actually.” 

The man doesn’t respond, just looks at him with his beautiful brown eyes. Louis doesn’t feel discourage, just smiles a little wider. 

“Care for some more breakfast?” He asks. The man looks at him, staring at him for a moment before Louis sees the tiniest nod of his head. “All right, well, if you want some this morning you have to go into the shop with me. You can bring anything you want but I’m not going to let you sit on the ground while all this snow melts and ruin your new blankets. So, get up and let’s go, yeah?” 

The homeless man looks at him, and Louis motions with his hands for him to stand up. He waits patiently while the man figures out what it is he wants to do before he slowly gets up, pulling his blankets with him. He’s still got them draped over him when he’s fully stood up, back pressed against the building behind him as he looks at Louis. 

“Excellent, shall we go?” Louis asks, motioning towards the coffee shop. He takes a tentative step and then another, watching as the man follows behind him slowly, staring at the ground as he walks. Louis can see his head turn slightly every few seconds, like he’s watching to see what Louis’ body is doing, but like he doesn't want to show that he’s interested in what Louis is doing, like he’s scared if Louis notices him then he’ll take back his offer for food, so Louis just keeps walking, allowing the man time to catch up to him when he reaches the coffee shop, pulling the door open and ushering the man inside. He sits him down in one of the chairs in the back and heads back towards the counter. 

The man working eyes the homeless man in the back and then Louis, his eyebrows raised in question. 

“He lives on the street, he’s cold and hungry. I’ll take my usual and another hot chocolate for him and this time make it two croissants and muffin on the side.” 

The employee nods his head, getting to work on Louis’ order. Louis’ drops his card down on the counter and turns back to look at the homeless guy he brought with him, studying the way he’s clutching onto his blankets like they’re everything to him. His head is bowed, staring at the table in front of him and nothing else. The chair he’s sitting in nice and round with soft cushions, something much better than the pavement he’s used to. 

Louis hears someone clearing their throat and he turns around, the employee setting down the drinks and food on the counter. “This all?” 

“Um, yeah,” Louis says, sliding the hot chocolate and food towards him. “Actually… all right, this is going to sound weird, but if I pay for two more hot chocolates and a lunch meal, the tortilla thing that tastes like pasta, you know the one?” The employee nods. “If I pay for those could he stay in here and could you make sure he got them?” 

The employee looks at him for a moment before he sighs, nodding his head. 

“Excellent, thank you. Did he come in here yesterday?” 

“Nope,” the employee replies, swiping Louis’ credit card. “He walked past a couple times, but he never came in. I think he wanted too, Rose and I were making bets on if he’d ever come in or not.” He hands the card back and Louis’ sighs, shoving it into his wallet and that back into his pocket before he carries the homeless guy’s items over to him. 

He sets them down on the table, catching the man’s attention. “These are for you. I spoke to the owner, the guy in the front, and I bought you two more hot chocolates, one you can have with the lunch I bought you and the other you can have in the afternoon before they close. I’ve already paid for them so you have to get them today, okay? I know you don’t like talking so just walk up there and wait, he’ll give them to you, all right?” 

The man doesn’t say anything, just stares at the drink and food in front of him. Louis’ sighs, shaking his head and patting the man on his shoulder before he turns to leave, stopping at the counter to grab his and Nick’s drinks before he leaves, sparing a glance back at the homeless man to see him picking up the hot chocolate. A smile spreads across Louis’ face at the sight. 

~~~~

“You’re late, Tomlinson” is the first thing Louis’ hears when he enters work. Nick is out of his office, passing a stack of papers over to some redheaded woman before he waves, following behind Louis and snatching his coffee out of his hand. 

“Are you going to fire me?” Louis’ asks, pushing Nick’s office door open and allowing them both to enter. 

“No, I’m not going to fire you, but I would like an explanation. I am your boss you know, and people always think I treat you differently, so I’m trying to create the illusion that I give a shit what you were doing this morning,” Nick says, taking a seat at his desk. 

“Well, if you must know, I was buying that homeless guy on Chestnut breakfast and lunch. He liked the blankets I gave him last night, by the way, had both of them wrapped around his body this morning. He even looked warmed, had some color back in his cheeks. The red wasn’t from the cold either, so keep your shitty comments to yourself,” Louis says, taking the seat opposite and sips from his tea. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I don’t really care why you’re late, like I said, just an illusion,” Nick waves his hands around to show what he means, waving them around like he’s holding a magic wand and it’ll do whatever he wants it to do. 

“You’re fucking weird,” Louis says, shaking his head and Nick shrugs, completely unfazed. “You have a meeting a eleven, also. I can’t remember whom it’s with but it’s a new client and I think they want their summerhouse designed. I’ll bring you the info later, from what I can remember it’s an all white house on the beach and they want a circle window in the back, that allows them to see into multiple rooms. I don’t know. It’s a shitty design idea.” 

“They’re all shitty design ideas until I come up with my own and then convince them to do it my way, because I didn’t spend eight years at school studying this subject for nothing. You’re lucky you don’t have to work with clients on your books, I’m sure kids would be even worse.” 

“Hey, speaking of my books,” Louis says, sliding to the edge of his seat, smiling widely at Nick in excitement as he remembers the idea he came up with in the middle of the night, the one that woke him up and had him working from two to five in the morning. “I’ve come up with this idea, right? It’s a puppy and he lives on a farm and befriends a worm living in an apple. Sick, right?” 

Nick looks at him, blinking for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it and Louis’ continues. 

“It’s kind of silly, but it came to me in the middle of the night.” 

“No, no. I’m sure it’ll be excellent. I can’t wait to read the final draft,” Nick says, smiling genuinely. “I’ll just never understand where these ideas come from, honestly. A puppy and a worm, nothing I have ever heard of before.” 

“Exactly,” Louis says, nodding his head. “It’ll be a best seller when I’m finished with it.” 

“Well, future award winning children’s author Louis, if it’s not too much trouble could you get to work? I need to concentrate. I spoke with a client yesterday afternoon and they wanted to get drinks this evening, said that they wanted to discuss ideas and I’m not nearly prepared enough for this, so if you’ll be on your way.” Nick makes a show of shooing Louis, waving his arms until Louis stands up, rolling his eyes at his boss. 

“Honestly, you’re impossible.” 

“Yeah, whatever, princess. Hey, before you go, are you coming over later tonight to clean my place?” 

Louis cocks his head to the side, looking at him for a moment before he remembers the date. “Yeah, of course. Now, get to work, Grimshaw, these houses and buildings won’t design themselves, will they?” 

Nick throws a balled up piece of paper at him and Louis’ laughs, shaking his head as he slides into his desk, turning off the straight to voicemail forward on this phone and getting to work. 

~~~~ 

Every once in a while Louis cleans Nick’s apartment. It’s nothing serious and nothing major but every once in a while he needs the extra cash, he needs a bit extra money to make sure he has enough for his bills and food. It’s an arrangement they made a long time ago, Louis stops by and does his laundry, irons his clothes, and makes sure they’re all folded or hung up in the closet. He cleans Nick’s dishes, his kitchen, his bathroom and his floors. Nick usually helps him, or tries to anyway since Louis won’t allow him to really do much of anything other than put his clothes in the closet and dresser however he wants to do it, or passes him the dishes so he can dry them off. Louis doesn’t want Nick’s help with it, because he wants to know that he’s earning them money and not being given it, although he knows Nick would write him a check and call it a day without any thoughts about it. 

And that’s one of Louis’ favorite things about having Nick as his boss slash best friend; he’s kind and generous, even if it is hidden behind a stupid quiff and a snarky attitude. He helps Louis and he doesn’t ask for anything in return, besides the morning cup of coffee and the lunch he always seems to forget and doesn’t realize that Louis buys with the company card. 

Nick’s helped him out in more ways than one, so cleaning his posh apartment every once in a while to make sure he doesn’t go without food is fine with him. 

“It’s getting late,” says Nick as he slides into place next to Louis at the sink. “Weather report says a new round of snow is coming in soon, so you should probably head out of here. Or, you can keep cleaning and I’ll take you home later.” 

“No,” Louis says, shaking his head. He sighs, knowing that he still has the kitchen to finish and to fold Nick’s clothes that are finished drying, two things he won’t be able to finish before sundown. “I don’t want you taking me home, not when it’s going to snow.” 

It’s not that Louis doesn’t want the ride home, he does, and nothing would be better than sitting in the comfortable warmth instead of fighting against the outside elements. But he’s still uncomfortable about Nick seeing his house and how small and quaint it is next to Nick’s apartment. 

“All right, well, if you want to be paid then you’ll finish after these dishes,” Nick says, taking the plate Louis is handing him. 

“I’m not finished,” Louis says, grabbing a wine glass and cleaning it, scrubbing it with a soapy cloth. 

“I cleaned three days ago, Lou. It’ll be fine,” Nick says with a sigh and Louis shrugs, because as long as he’s getting paid he really doesn’t care. 

He finishes cleaning in quiet, shutting the water off and waiting for Nick to finish drying before he accepts the small hunk of cash and heads out for the night, bundling up under layers of clothes. 

~~~~ 

The snow is falling hard as Louis trudges down the street, coat clutched tightly to his body. It’s nearing dark, the cloud filled sky darkening, and streetlights flicking on as he makes his way through the city. The snows falling heavy, flakes blurring the city and his surroundings, falling into his hair and landing on his lashes, dampening and reddening his skin as he walks, but it’s not heavy enough to make his trip miserable. The wind is bad, whipping around him and piercing his face and other bits of exposed skin. 

He takes a new route home, having checked his phone before he left Nick’s place. It’s supposed to be shorter, supposed to get him home a little quicker before the thin layer of snow on the ground turns into something more, something deeper. The cars parked along the street are covered; the trees lined up along the edge of the sidewalk being weighed down the snow. 

There are a few other people out, most of them rushing past, trying to make it home before the snowfall becomes something unmanageable. And it’s because of these people rushing by that Louis doesn’t think anything of it when someone slams into him, tripping over his feet before he rushes off, another man following close behind. He figures that it’s a game, the two of them racing to see who can make it home before the other. It’s not uncommon, people finding ways to beat the snow and to prevent the winter from pulling them into a seasonal depression. He smiles at the sight, shaking his head as he keeps on walking. 

It’s not until a few blocks away that he realizes the people running weren’t in it for the laughs. He passes by an alley, a little passageway between a pizza place and a Laundromat where they keep their trash cans. Inside the alleyway is the two men that rushed past him, one of them on the ground, hands over his face while the other kicks him repeatedly. 

Louis’ frozen in place, not sure if he should get involved with the situation because he doesn't know what’s going on, doesn’t know if the two guys have some kind of weapon or vendetta against each other that could get him hurt. But he can’t just stand there, can’t stand the sight of the man on the ground clutching his abdomen, can’t stand the sounds of his whimpers and cries, but he’s not begging for the other man to stop, just lying there and moaning in pain. The man on the ground looks up, his eyes locking with Louis’ and even in the distance between them Louis’ can’t mistake the brown eyes, the same from the homeless man he’s been seeing the past few days. And something in Louis’ snaps, a sudden urge to protect the boy. 

“Hey,” Louis shouts, running forward into the alley. The man doing the kicking, an older man with a round belly, wearing a hoodie instead of a coat with a beanie on his head, looks up at him but doesn’t stop. And as Louis gets closer he can smell alcohol rolling off of the man’s body. “Seriously, leave him alone.” 

The man looks up at him, ceasing his actions for a moment to scan his eyes over Louis’ body. He sniffs loudly, rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth. “Mind your own business, pretty boy,” the man says. “This doesn’t concern you.” 

Louis takes a deep breath, doing his best to make himself brave. “Listen, it’s getting late and the snow is about to get worse, the reports say we’re going to see quite a bit tonight and I reckon you’ll want to get home before that happens, this guy doesn’t have a home, he deserves to be able to find shelter before the storm hits. So how about you just go along your way and leave him alone, all right?” 

“I said to mind your own business, now get the fuck out of here.” 

Louis looks at him for a moment before his eyes glance down to the homeless man on the ground, he can see blood pooling next to his eye, his lip fat and red and bleeding as well. He can’t see what’s underneath his shirt but he imagines that it’s red and bruised, having taken a beating tonight. “Just go home, it’s not worth it.” 

The man stares at him for a moment, challenging Louis but Louis holds his own, squaring his shoulders and glaring back at the man until he sighs, cursing under his breath and shaking his head. He kicks the homeless man once more before he walks off, knocking his shoulder into Louis’ as hard as he can, causing him to stumble backwards. As he walks away Louis hears him muttering something about hybrids, calling them worthless vermin and something else that Louis’ missed. He watches him stagger away in confusion, watching him until he’s out of sight before he rushes forward, kneeling down on the ground next to the man. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asks, tilting up the man’s cheek to get a good look at the bruise on his cheek. The man must have been hitting him in the face before he ran off, he thinks maybe the homeless guy fell down, tripped over his own feet and then the attacker started kicking him. It’s all just a theory but it makes sense. “Hey, you okay?”

The homeless guy just looks at him, flinching when they make eye contact and Louis frowns, not understanding. He looks at him for a moment, scanning his face for any more injuries, glancing up just slightly to see the normal beanie on his head is gone, fallen down on the ground next to him. There are pointed ears on the top of his head, the same color as his sandy brown hair. His mouth drops open slightly as he reaches up, brushing his fingers against them before the fold back, disappearing into the man’s hair line. 

He’s never been this close to a hybrid. He’s seen them before with wealthier families, on television and in movies, but he’s never actually been able to touch them. He’s heard stories before; all of them making hybrids sound like second-class citizens. He remembers going to school with a few of them during his childhood but none of them were his age and he never had the luxury of running into one in the hallway. They’ve always fascinated him, science experiment gone wrong or whatever their story is, he can’t remember, especially now with one lying on the ground in front of him, covering in bruises and his own blood. It’s getting late and the hybrid hospital is on the other side of town, a forty-five minute drive; a walk that would take him half a day at the very least. The snow’s beginning to fall heavier and without any cabs in sight Louis has only one option. 

Louis picks up the beanie lying on the ground, tugs it onto the homeless hybrids head. He grabs one of the hybrid’s arms, throwing it over his shoulder and helping him stand. The boy squirms, doing his best to get away from Louis but Louis wraps his arm around his waist, using the other hand to hold onto his arm around his shoulder and begins walking, having made the decision to bring the hybrid home to clean up his wounds, give him a nice, warm place to stay for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis sits the homeless hybrid down at his kitchen table, helping him gently ease onto the chair. He still hasn’t said anything, but he’s shaking with a mixture of fear and the bitter cold from outside, nipping at his skin as Louis helped guide him back to his apartment. He’s making these quiet little whimpers, his teeth chattering breaking them up as he wraps his arms around him. 

“I’ll be right back,” Louis says, watching as the man nods his head. He rushes off, heading back towards the entryway of his apartment so he can shed some of his layers. He pulls of his coat, the outer layer damp from the falling snow and tosses it on the ground, he’ll worry about it later. He sits at the bottom of his stairs and unlaces his boots, pulling off and sighing in relief as the gently pressure around his ankles dissipates. 

When he’s finished there’s a large pile of clothes on the ground, ones he’s going to have to wash and dry later, after he’s taken care of the man in his kitchen. He’s nervous about having him in his apartment, he knows relatively nothing about hybrids, or even the homeless for that matter, and he doesn't know why the man in alley was beating him up. For all he knows the stranger with the soft brown eyes isn’t as kind and harmless as he seems. Louis hopes he is, for the sake of his life. 

He doesn’t head to the kitchen just yet, instead he starts a fire, dropping logs into the firebox before he grabs bits of the old newspaper and stuffing it inside and leaving bits sticking out from between the logs. He strikes a match, lowering it carefully to the corner of the newspaper and watching as the flames spread slowly, smoke rising from out of the wood and into the chimney shaft. He watches the flames dance around, slowly growing size before he glances up to see the homeless man watching him, his teeth still chattering and body shaking. There’s dried blood on his clothes and caked in his hair, and Louis smiles at him sadly as he eases himself up off the ground and heads into the other room. 

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up,” Louis says, standing in front of him. “You think you can make it up the stairs? I’ve got the first aid kid upstairs, and there’s no way we could get you to the hybrid hospital tonight, not with the snow falling down as hard as it.” Louis nods towards the window behind the man, the one with snow built up on the sill. “You are a hybrid, right?” 

The brown-eyed stranger doesn’t say anything, but he reaches up with shaky hands and pulls off the beanie on his head, revealing the softly lined furry appendages. Louis stares at them curiously, watching as they slowly fold bag to hide behind a mess of unruly curls. 

“I guess that answers my question,” Louis says, releasing a deep breath. “Okay, let’s get you upstairs.” 

He grabs onto the hybrids arm, gently pulling him off of the chair and wraps it around his neck before he wraps his own arm around the man’s back. He’s still limping slightly, and wincing with every step. Louis holds onto him tightly, trying to take as much of his body weight as he can. The boy is still shaking, from the cold, probably, but Louis thinks it’s him that’s causing the other boy to quiver. 

Getting him up the stairs is difficult, but they manage, somehow. Louis thinks it’s a miracle they didn't fall backwards halfway up. He puts the lid down on the toilet and sits Liam down on top of it before he flicks on the light. The first aid kit is kept under the sink, the worst location in the house for it, considering Louis has to jog up the stairs just to try and clean an injury. 

He’s got a nasty cut along his eyebrow, the blood from it dried along his cheek as it trailed down his face. Louis turns the water on and grabs one of the clean clothes from underneath the sink and gets it wet, wringing it out, and gently begins dabbing around the cut, trying to clean it as best as he can. He’s not a medical expert, by no means, but he knows that he needs to get it cleaned off before it gets infected. 

“This is going to sting, okay?” Louis says, setting down the cloth and grabbing a bit of gauze, he pours some of the cleaning alcohol on it. “You can pinch my leg if it hurts, I don’t want you to be the only one in pain.” He sets the gauze against the cut, the man withering and whining at the contact. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis says, dabbing at the cut before he drops the gauze in the trash bin. He looks at him, grabbing the damp cloth again and gently rubbing the dried blood off his cheek, trying to be as gentle as he can with the darkening bruise forming on his skin. “I need you to take your shirt off, he was kicking you in the ribs, I need to make sure nothing else is happening besides bruising.”

The hybrid shakes his head, pushing back until he’s hitting the back of the toilet, his body trembling. 

“It’s okay,” Louis soothes, resting a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder. “If you have a cut on your abdomen then I’ll need to clean it and make sure it’s not too deep. I just want to check it, I promise not to touch you unless it’s to clean a wound, okay?” Louis steps back, holding his hands up in the air. 

The man looks at him for a moment before he nods his head, reaching down for the hem of his shirt with shaky hands. He lifts his shirt up carefully, revealing an inch of skin at a time. Louis looks carefully, watching the patch of hair leading from his waistband up to his chest where it spreads out over the skin. He’s skinny, his ribs and collarbones sticking out, definitely due to lack of nutrition from living out on the street. Louis feels something twist in his gut, a soft sort of desire to help him. He’s got bruises along his ribs, already forming purple under his skin from where the man was kicking him. There’s a small cut along his collarbone and Louis reaches carefully for the cloth, finding a clean edge before he begins dabbing at the skin. 

He does the best he can cleaning the boy’s injuries, but there’s only so much he can do without being able to put his hands on more skin than just the bloodied parts. As he wipes at his skin, removing the flecks of dried blood, he sees as a thin layer of dirt attaches itself on the cloth, removing itself from the hybrids skin. 

“We need to get you cleaned off,” Louis says, looking at the dirty skin of the man’s torso. He’s covered in a thin layer of something, the smell not strong enough to be offending, but it’s there. His hair is ratty and greasy, his tail knotted and Louis wonders when the last time he had the opportunity to bathe was. 

“You know how to bathe, right?” Louis asks, feeling like an ignorant idiot. He’s never been around hybrids before, and he hasn’t the slightest clue how long this one has been homeless for. 

The hybrid stares at him, his eyebrows knitted together as he nods his head. 

“Excellent, it’s a standard shower, no fancy tricks about getting it started. I’ll wait until you’re inside before I drop some clean, warm clothes in here for you. I’ve got sweatpants; you know, um, old ones that we could cut a hole in or something. I’m not sure what you normally with the uh,” he trails off, waving his hands around in the direction of bit of sandy brown fur wrapped around the hybrids calf. 

Louis nods his head once before he smiles, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He waits, to make sure the man doesn’t lock the door, and when he’s sure that it’s not going to be locked, he rushes off in search of a pair of scissors so he can cut a hole in one of his sweatpants. 

~~~ 

Louis’ sitting on the ground outside of the bathroom, moving his feet from side to side as he waits for the man to step out of the bathroom. He was in the shower for half an hour, long enough for Louis to give him clothes, change into his own set of pajamas, and brush his teeth in the bathroom (his hand held next to his eyes so he didn’t have a chance of seeing anything if the hybrid tried to step out). He’s done just about everything he needs to do to get ready for bed; the only thing he’d had to do is wait. 

The shower shut off a few minutes ago, and he could hear a shuffling as the man behind the door stepped out of the tub and began getting dressed. He left him a pair of sweatpants, a little hole cut out in the back for his tail, and a sweater. Louis still cannot believe that he has a hybrid in his house, a living, breathing hybrid rather than a photograph or something. He doesn’t know much about them, never having been able to afford them, but he knows they’re used as a sign of status, people wanting to show off to others in the community by owning a hybrid. 

The rattling of the doorknob startles him, causing him to jump on his feet and watch, as the door is slowly pulled open. His clothes look far too large on the other boy, even though he’s bigger than him. Louis is going to have to use the money he got from cleaning Nick’s apartment to buy food from the store to try and fatten him up. 

“Was the hole in your pants all right? I wasn’t sure where to put them, I’ve never had anyone with a, uh, tail in the house, let alone in my clothes,” Louis rambles. 

The man nods his head awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as he stares at Louis. 

“Right, um, I set the bedroom up for you. You’ve had a rough night, plus I’m not sure the last time you slept on a bed, so I’m going to take the couch,” Louis says, motioning for the man to follow him as he takes him into his bedroom just down the hall. “I’ve got a guest room, but haven’t had the funds to buy a bed for it, so this will have to do.” 

The man just stands in the doorway and Louis sighs, shaking his head. He grabs the bandages he placed on the end table, the ones he’s going to need to place over the cuts on the hybrid’s eyebrow and chest. “You might as well come sit down, toss your clothes in the corner. The ones in your hands, not the ones you’re wearing,” he corrects when the hybrids eyes go wide. 

It takes what feels like an hour for the man to make his way across the room after he bends over and gently sets his ratty, smelly clothes on the ground. He takes short steps that look almost painful as he walks, he’s white-knuckling his tail and watching Louis carefully while he steps in front of him and sits down on the edge of the bed. 

Louis tears the paper off the adhesive part of the bandage and carefully lays it over the man’s cuts, smoothing them down gently with his thumb as he smiles, noticing the way the hybrid is staring at him with his warm, brown eyes. 

“There, good as new,” Louis says, smiling. “There’s extra blankets in the closet if you get cold, and you’re welcome to come downstairs for food, just help yourself to anything.” 

The man nods his head, showing no signs of wanting to move his position. 

“All right, remember you can ask me for anything, if you can talk. I don’t know if you can or not, you’ve been fairly silent. Can you speak? Like, um, I don’t know much about you,” Louis says, watching as the hybrid nods his head. “All right, that’s great. Could you tell me your name? I can tell you’re not comfortable saying much else, but a name would be great.” 

The hybrid looks at him for a moment, mulling it over in his head. “Liam,” he whispers, his voice rough and raspy. 

“Liam,” Louis repeats, nodding his head in approval. “Thanks for telling me.” He pats him on the shoulder and makes his way towards the door, flicking off the overhead light to leave Liam casted in a soft yellow glow from the lamp on the bedside table. “Good night, Liam.”

~~~ 

Louis is grateful that his couch, while weathered and worn, is probably the most comfortable piece of furniture to ever grace the planet, because his thighs are burning from the heat of his laptop and his butt is becoming numb, but he’s so content that he can’t move. 

He’s browsing the web, trying to find at least some kind of basic information on hybrids. He’s found a few things, mostly about people’s views on them being less than the human race, even though the hybrid is a human with altered features. A scientist with a name that Louis can’t pronounce created them in a lab; their purpose was purely scientist, stem cell research and donations, organ donations, and to study the splicing of human DNA with those of various animals. It’s a lot of scientific talk that Louis doesn’t understand other than it starts with embryos that grow in the womb of a volunteer for a very hefty reimbursement. 

It doesn’t say exactly when hybrids came out of the labs and into society, but Louis knows that’s it’s been well before his grandparents time. 

Among the basic research, he finds that they’re relatively exactly the same as humans minus the tail and ears, sometimes teeth and other body parts like fingers and toes. One of the differences that strikes Louis’ attention the most, is their desire to find and have a mate and they bond with them, often for life and in a way that completely and utterly consumes them. 

Louis makes a note to ask Liam in the morning if he has a mate, curiosity clawing at him as he shuts his laptop and sets it down on the floor. He stretches his legs out, feeling as they tense and shake before relaxing and sagging against the furniture beneath him. 

He yawns in his hand, feeling sleep prickling at his mind, and grabs his phone from it’s resting place on his chest and pulls open a message for Nick, typing, _What do you know about hybrids?_

The response comes almost instantly, **Louis, it’s almost one, ask me in the morning, Nick writes and Louis laughs, shaking his head.**

_No can do, Grimshaw. I’ve got one upstairs sleeping in my bed._

**I know you have to be filthy fucking rich to have one, so you better not be doing anything illegal, Tomlinson.**

_Remember the homeless man I mentioned? It’s him; he’s a hybrid, got a cute little tail and everything. I saw him getting beat up in an alley and he was pretty out of it so I brought him back to my place._

**Louis, you can’t bring home a stranger, especially a hybrid.**

_What does that mean?? He doesn’t talk, judging by the way his bones are jutting out of his body, I’d guess that he’s probably starved. Worst he’s going to do is eat all my food and run out the door. Don’t worry about me; I swear that he’s harmless._

It takes a couple minutes to get a response, and Louis wonders if Nick harbors the same ignorant feelings as the people on the Internet about what hybrids are and what they’re capable of. One person having written about their love for human meat as a snack, a theory that caused Louis to roll his eyes. It’s all ignorance, and Louis has a hard time formulating his own opinion when half the people writing about them are the ones out abusing them on the street for doing nothing wrong. 

He’s almost asleep when he gets Nick’s response, a short text that reads, **Just be careful, don’t get attached.**

Louis locks his phone and drops it on the ground, it lands with a thud and he rolls over, tugging the blankets higher up his body. He’s not going to get attached, he thinks, how can he get attached to someone he hardly knows?


	4. Chapter 4

When Louis wakes up on the couch he’s a bit confused. There are embers in the fireplace, a small graying pile of ash with flecks of glowing orange, heating up his living room to the point where he’s sweating under the thickness of his duvet. He tries to fight against waking up, keeping his eyes clenched together and shoving his face into the cushion, but then the reason for why he’s on the couch comes back to him, the hybrid boy named Liam in his bed. Pulling his face out from between he cushions, he sighs, stretching his limbs out, trying to work out the kink in his neck from the awkward angle of using the armrest as a pillow. He picks up his phone to check the time, and curses when he sees that he’s late for work and he has three texts from Nick. He quickly unlocks his phone and opens the messages, ready to apologize profusely for being late.

**Sorry for being short with you last night, hope things went all right with the hybrid.**

**Oh, don’t bother coming into work today. Snow’s up to my fucking window, half the city is shut down. Get some sleep.**

**You better be alive.**

His body sags in relief as he reads that he doesn’t have to make it into work for the day, but curiosity gets the best of him, and he pulls himself up off the couch to glance outside. True to Nick’s word, the snow is crowding around his windowsills. There tiny flecks floating from the sky, not enough to worry him that his windows might be covered soon. He shakes his head at the sight, hoping for winters end before he closes his curtains, not wanting to deal with the glare the sun casts into his living room as it bounces off the snow.

Louis shoves his phone in the pockets of his pajama bottoms and heads upstairs, wanting to check on Liam. It feels weird having a name for him, having only called him the homeless man for the last few days. He peeks into his bedroom the see the hybrid, Liam, his brain supplies, curled up in a ball, his arms tucked carefully under his pillow and his knees pulled up, fast asleep. Louis closes the door gently and heads back downstairs.

As he passes through his living room on his way to restart the fire, he catches sight of the snow through the slit in the curtains where they’re not pulled together properly, and feels a sense of relief towards his decision to allow Liam to stay with him. The snow is several feet high, Louis imagines it would reach his upper-thigh if he were to try and step outside, and that’s no place for people to be sleeping. Louis takes it as a sign that he did the right thing.

~~~

When Liam wakes up Louis is halfway through making omelets, vegetables and remnants of breakfast sausages littering the countertop and trying his hardest not to burn their food. Liam enters quietly, and Louis wonders if there is anything he doesn’t do silently. Louis nearly jumps when he sees him, almost dropping the plate on the ground when he catches the hybrid standing in the entryway to his kitchen with his tail clutched in his hands.

“Are you hungry?” Louis asks, smiling at Liam as he makes his way across the kitchen and sets the plate on the table. He pulls the chair out, motioning for Liam to sit down.

It’s been a while since Louis has had a houseguest, and while Louis’ not completely sure if he’s overdoing it, he is certain that Liam wouldn’t know the difference. Usually, he has a small, plain breakfast; a bit of toast or oatmeal with his morning tea, but when he thought back on the way he could see the definition of Liam’s bones, and he knew that a tiny breakfast wasn’t something he could afford to do, not when he has someone staying in his house who looks like they haven’t eaten in ages. Louis’ bank account might not be able to afford it, but Liam’s body could use all the nutrition it can get, so Louis’ doesn’t allow himself to panic too much. Nick will give him any money he needs, and he can start cleaning his house more often than what he’s doing.

“Please sit down,” Louis says, and Liam carefully shuffles across the room and sits down, his tail dropping down to the floor and wrapping around the leg of the chair. “I’m not sure what you like, but I know that you’re starving. Do you know when the last time you had a decent meal was?”

Liam stares at the plate in front of him, his stomach giving off a telltale gurgle, a clear sign of his hunger. He shakes his head, his shoulders sagging down in shame. Louis frowns, reaching out and patting his hand against Liam’s shoulder.

“Eat up, Liam,” he says, standing up from the table to retrieve the second omelet, the one that’s a little bit more than cool, and sits down at the table next to Liam.

Louis’ learns, as they eat together in silence, that Liam takes far longer than necessary to eat a meal. He chalks it up to Liam’s nerves, and when Louis finishes his plate, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, deciding to reply back to Nick.

_Both the hybrid, Liam, and I are alive._

He keeps his phone in his hand, trying to make himself look busy because through his lashes, when he glances up, he can see that Liam is eating more, less worried about Louis paying attention to him.

**So, you’ve named him?**

_Nope, he had a name. I asked him last night when I left him in my room._

He taps his chin for a moment, thinking. _Do you think he’s got an owner? Or like, he comes from some kind of family or something?_

**Maybe? I don’t really know anyone who would allow their hybrid to live out on the streets and starve. They’re like pets; some people worship them, love them, and make them apart of the family. Others, it just looks like they’re caring for them, but behind closed doors…**

Louis sucks his bottom lip into his mouth; he’s tempted to ask what might happen behind closed doors, but everything circulating through out his mind are situations that he can’t imagine someone doing to someone as timid and gentle as Liam.

**Maybe he’s lost, or someone was passing through town and accidentally lost him. Ask him.**

Louis nods his head at his phone, forgetting for a moment that Nick can’t see him. He sets his phone down on the table, leaving it unlocked and turning the screen down to face the wood so Liam can’t read the conversation, if he can read.

“Liam,” Louis says, gently, trying not to startle the man. “Can I ask you something?”

Liam looks up slowly, tearing his eyes away from his food and chewing slowly, looking at Louis cautiously. The nod of his head is slight, and Louis knows that if he had blinked at that very moment that he would have missed it.

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way, because you’re free to stay here as long as you want,” Louis says, sitting up a little straighter and resting his elbows on the table. “Especially in this horrible winter we’re having, so don’t think I’m throwing you out, okay?” Liam nods his head slowly, and Louis takes a deep breath before continuing. “Do you have an owner? Or, I’m not really sure what they’re called. I mean, I’d doubt you’d have an owner, you’re a free thinking person, um, hybrid.”

Liam stares at him for a long moment, and Louis holds his breath, waiting for a reaction. Louis takes the opportunity to study Liam carefully, the tightened muscles of his shoulders and the way his jaw is clenching, and Louis wonders if he struck a nerve. Probably, but whether it’s a good or a bad thing, he’s not sure.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Louis says. “I’d understand completely. I was just thinking, like, if someone were looking for you, maybe we could get you off the streets. But like I said, you’re free to stay with me for as long as you need and want.”

Liam finally shakes his head, and Louis cocks an eyebrow in confusion. “No, you don’t have an owner?”

Liam nods his head and Louis sighs, resting his head in his hands, his palms cupping his chin.

“Do you, um, know how to talk?” He asks, curiosity nipping at him.

Liam nods again, turning away to stare back at the remnants of his omelet on the plate.

“Oh. So, you just don’t like to talk?”

Liam shakes his head.

“You just don’t want to talk to me?”

And to this, Liam nods, pulling his shoulders up and flinching a little, like he’s worried that his nod will have set Louis off. And while the nod did make Louis feel a little bad for himself, he doesn’t own Liam, and he’s not going to force him to talk. Liam will talk to him when he’s ready.

“That’s okay,” Louis says, nodding his head and picking up his phone. “I’ll do all the talking once you’ve finished your breakfast.” He smiles at Liam, and then texts Nick back.

_I’m in over my head._

~~~

They spend most of the day together in silence, Liam sitting rigidly in the seat next to Louis, watching television as Louis’ works on another book idea. This one is about a talking acorn. He has no idea where he wants to go with it, but he thinks that maybe if he branches away from animals, he might be able to get a publishing company to take interest in his story. He thinks about writing the acorn like it were a human, living in a house with a family, but he’s not sure. He chews on the end of his pen in thought, glancing up to catch Liam staring at him.

“I write children’s books, or well, I try to,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. He shoves a pile of his drafts over towards Liam, the monster pile of unfinished stories almost slipping down to the ground. “Take a look, tell me what you think.”

Liam sinks down to the floor slowly, cautiously leaning forward and glancing at the papers in front of him. Louis sets his pen down and watches, biting his lip and hoping that Liam might want to strike up a conversation about the stories.

“That’s about a six-toed toad named Zip. I thought it might be a nice play on puns, like Zip Toad sounds like zip code, if you know what that is,” Louis says, watching as Liam stares at him like he has three heads. “It’s a work in progress.” He flips the pages, skipping through until he gets to the next story.

“This one is about a kitten living with a family of birds, and she wants to learn how to fly. I thought it might be a nice tale for, like, adopted children, because then they’d understand that it’s okay to be different and to not fit in your family. I don’t really fit in with my family. I’m not adopted, but we have our differences. What about you? Do you have a family? Not like an owner, like I asked earlier, but a family, like a mother and a father and brothers and sisters.”

“No,” Liam says, shaking his head as he stares at the paper instead of at Louis. Louis tries not to smile at the fact he got Liam to talk.

“It’s all right, not everyone does. I haven’t seen my family for a while now,” Louis says, rubbing his thumb across the corner of the paper. It’s not a subject that Louis wants to venture into, not his favorite conversation to have with people, especially strangers, even if they are cute, hybrid strangers staying in his house. Plus, Louis doesn’t know the story behind Liam and his family, and he doesn’t want to push Liam away accidentally. “Oh, you might like this one, maybe. It’s about a purple dragon, and he’s living on his own, looking for a place called home. I’m torn on the ending. Not sure if I should give him a home with a group of lizards or in a restaurant, because wouldn’t be interested if the fire he breathed could cook meals?”

Liam lifts his head up slowly, staring blankly at Louis and blinking. “Dragon?”

“You don’t know what a dragon is? Well, not to worry, because they’re not real. They’re sort of like large lizards that spit fire instead of… um; I’m not sure what lizards do. But he’s kind of like you, right? Looking for a home?” Louis asks, watching as Liam carefully turns the page. He’s looking at the paper carefully; his eyebrows knitted together as he studies it.

Liam shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders, flipping away from the dragon story and onto the next. He stares at the paper, not really reading it and not really taking it in. Louis’ gut clenches, because he feels like he said something wrong, and he doesn’t know if Liam has that look on his face because he wants a home or because he’s running from something.

Louis studies Liam’s breathing, watching the shaky rise and fall of his chest, and the way his ears have folded back, and his tail has curled around his wrist tightly. Louis feels bad, and he’s not sure what to do, but he has a small idea.

“Liam, I just want you to know that you’re welcome to stay here. I don’t know much about hybrids, but I do get a bit lonely, and I’m sure it gets lonely for you out on the street. Plus, it’d be nice to come home to someone,” Louis says, sparing a cautious glance in Liam’s direction. He’s looking at him intently, but he doesn’t nod or shake his head, just looks at him for a moment before he goes back to flipping through the drafts of Louis’ books.

Louis doesn’t take Liam’s silence denial or confirmation of his request, but he does

~~~

Two days later, the snow has finally cleared enough for Louis to make it into work. He spends the day telling Nick about Liam, going over every detail of the last few days, and when he’s not talking about Liam, he’s online, searching for as much information as hybrids as he can.

When he gets home, his house is still. There’s no noise penetrating the air. He calls out for Liam as he strips out of his winter gear, frowning to himself when he doesn’t catch sight of the hybrid. He climbs the stairs, still calling out for Liam, and when he reaches his bedroom, he finds the bed made with the clothes he let Liam wear folded up on the end of the bed.

And after he searches his entire house, he finds that Liam’s gone, taking with him a few items of Louis’ food pantry. 


	5. Chapter 5

A week since he saw the hybrid and Liam’s departure still feels like being dunked into a freezing lake, Louis’ body is unsure of how to react besides sheer panic and lack of coordination as he tries to come up with a plan for how he’s going to find Liam, or if he even should find Liam. 

He doesn’t see Liam as he trudges through the slushy, melting city on his way to work every morning. He’s no longer sitting a few stores down from the coffee shop. He doesn’t see him near the alleyway where Louis saw him being beaten. Louis even tries different routes to work, wanting to walk through as much of the city as he can in vain hopes that he’ll be able to find Liam. 

The city, along with his home, feels oddly empty. 

Louis is used to being alone. He’s spend enough time on his own to know that it’s not necessarily a bad thing, and he was barely with Liam for more than a few days, and he finds that he wishes he were still there. And if he wasn’t there, Louis wishes that he could at least know the whereabouts of the hybrid boy. It’s the winter, and it’s freezing, predications of another snow storm on the weekly forecast every morning threatening to hit the city again, covering it in a thick blanket of snow, trapping the residents into their houses. And Louis has no way of knowing if Liam is safe or not, if he found a place to seek shelter from the brutal winter air. 

It’s not his place to worry about Liam, but he feels like he owes him something, like if Liam isn’t going to take care of the hybrid with the warm, gentle brown eyes, then he’s willing to take the job. It’s an odd feeling, one that washes over him and wraps around his body tightly, setting his nerves on edge. He feels heavy, like he’s being weighed down with something, the burden of it weighing down on his chest. He’s wound up and restless, wanting to spend all of fighting out a plan to make sure Liam is okay. 

It’s strange, because he shouldn’t be feeling this way for a stranger, not a stranger with a fancy, furry tail and ears that fold back when he’s alarmed, but the thought of Liam getting trapped in the storm set to come sets a fire off inside of him. It radiates from his chest down to his toes and pushes him into motion; ready to do whatever he can to get him back into the safety of his tiny two-bedroom house. 

Louis has never had this kind of motivation before, not for anyone or anything, but he’s determined for once, and tries his hardest to quiet the voice in the back of mind, nipping away at him, trying to remind him of a time where all his fire and his fight weren’t enough. 

~~~~ 

Louis drags his feet as he walks, grateful to be wearing shoes that don’t reach the middle of his calves or lace up, but rather plain, boring shoes that aren’t accustomed to seeing winter. It’s an oddly warm day out, the temperature rising to above freezing and confusing everyone into thinking that it’s warmer than it really is. Everyone is still bundled underneath layers and heavy coats, but Louis can feel a layer of sweat building up against his skin. The sensation is oddly pleasant, knowing that his body is experiencing something other than the piercing feeling of the wind nipping at his skin. 

He keeps his head up as he walks, his eyes tearing up a bit as the wind blows, but he’s trying to focus on his surroundings. He’s looking for flashes of a boy curled up on himself, wrapped in a blanket, trying to disappear from the world. He’s looking for flashes of sandy hair and a bushy tail, swinging behind him as he walks. 

Louis is taking left a bit earlier this morning, walking a path that leads almost around the city before it takes him to the office. It’s one of the routes that he hasn’t tried yet, taking him on streets that he’s never seen before, even after living in a city for so long. There are plenty of homeless people, a long line of them outside of a shelter he passes, but none of them are Liam. He seems an array of men and women curled up together on the edge of alleyways, on park benches, or walking through the streets. 

Louis doesn’t mean to stare at them, but he’s hoping to catch a glimpse of the hybrid that snuck out of his house. He still doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to find him, but he feels the pull inside of him, the one urging him to continue on with his search. 

He sighs as he continues to travel, shaking his head and hoping that he might be able to find something online about hybrid shelters and organizations that help them, because it’s always possible that Liam knew about them as well and could have gone to one. Even if he didn't, they might offer advice on where to find someone. 

Louis believes that it’s worth a shot, and Louis refuses to give up, even though all signs and pointing towards Liam not wanting to be found. 

~~~~

“What have I got for today?” Nick asks, flipping through a pile of folders of his desk, searching for something that Louis isn’t sure what. 

Louis checks the spreadsheet in front of him, his eyes scanning down until he reaches the day’s date and says, “Ah, Remember Stacey Klein? The blonde-bombshell with the dying husband? She’s coming in again today, called yesterday to confirm the appointment and said she would love to meet with the man with the honey eyes again. I assume that’s you?”

“I’m quite the catch, yes,” Nick says, not even bothering to look up. 

“Well, Mr. Honey-Eyed-Catch, she wants to go over more details for the designs she’s come up with. She wouldn’t give me any insights onto what that might entail, so you’re going to have to wing it. I have no idea how to prepare you,” Louis says, glancing up to see Nick nodding his head as he takes a sip of his coffee, frowning like he does when Louis doesn’t stop at the normal place. 

“What else?” 

“You have a meeting with that office, the bank staff about what your plans are for them. As well as a meeting to discuss the closings on Mr. Rains, apparently after months, he’s finally free to come up and talk to you. Go figure,” Louis says, dropping down into the seat across from Nick’s desk. He folds his legs underneath himself, watching and waiting for Nick to draw his attention away from the items in front of him to look up at Louis. 

“I’ve been doing phone consultations with Mark, or Mr. Rains for the last month,” Nick says, glancing up at Louis. “It’s hardly a surprise visit.” 

“I know, I check your call log every week.” 

“You’re my assistant, not my mother, so let’s knock that off,” Nick huffs out, rolling his eyes. 

“Don’t think I will, sorry. If I didn’t keep up to date on your business endeavors when half of them are done behind my back, and then I’m left to deal with the angry shouting in my ear as I try to pull up paperwork that doesn’t exist, so when you learn to be a better boss, I’ll stop stalking your life,” Louis replies with a smile, batting his eye lashes at Nick. “Anyway, when did you start talking to that one guy again? RJ?” 

“How is the search for your hybrid?” Nick asks, changing the subject as he drops the stake of folders in a drawer, no doubt leaving them there so Louis is left to take care of them when Nick forgets to bother with them. 

“I’m stuck, again. I tried a new path today, one that had me walking for an extra twenty minutes, but I didn’t see him. It’s strange, one minute he’s everywhere and the next, he’s gone,” Louis sighs, shaking his head. 

“If people don’t want to be found, they’ll find a way to stay hidden,” Nick states casually, shrugging his shoulders before he slides his chair to the front of his computer, turning his attention away from Louis. “I’m sure you’ll find him when he’s ready.” 

Louis sighs and shakes his head again, because Nick doesn’t get it. He’s been weird about the hybrid thing since he first mentioned it. Louis hasn’t gotten him to say why, what his problem with them is, nor has he gotten him to help out with his search for Liam. He texts him, almost everyday asking if he’s seen anything, but Nick always replies with a short no. 

Louis feels alone in his search, alone in his will to help the hybrid out. He wishes Nick would get it, try to at least, or entertain him enough by pretending like he cares. Instead he shuts him out, changing the topic or turning away like he is now, giving Louis the cold shoulder until he leaves. 

Louis can take a hint. He huffs at Nick, swatting at his stupid quiff before he steps out of his office, dropping down into his own chair and spinning around for a minute. 

He doesn’t really have much work to get done for the day, nothing to do until Nick is ready for a meeting or until someone calls looking to book an appointment or consultation. He stops spinning, using his toes to scoot himself forward until he’s able to rest his elbows on the edge of the desk. He glances around, studying to see if anyone is paying him any attention before he clicks on his desktop, waiting for it to boot up.

Louis opens the Internet, tapping his fingers against the keys as he thinks before he types into the search bar, ‘places for homeless hybrids to go’. The searches pull up a series of shelters, homeless ones and adoption locations. He skims through the adoption places, quickly checking their sister sites, hoping to find a correlation before the two, and coming up unlucky. He then decides to check the homeless shelters, opening seven different locations up in tabs, ready to glance over their information and to call their numbers. 

He pulls up one that’s a few miles from his house, Five Acres Hybrid Shelter. It describes itself as a sanctuary, a place for hybrids that wish to live on their own instead of being forced into families. He reads through it carefully, nodding his head as different parts of their mission statement appeal to him. He keeps it open, wanting to call them during his lunch break before he switches over to another simply called, Hybrid’s Home.

Louis spends hours reading up on it all, almost forgetting completely that he’s at work and should be doing what he’s actually paid to do, but something inside of him, the pull that he keeps talking about is stopping him, forcing him to continue his search. 

~~~~

Louis jumps when he hears the sound of Nick’s office door opening, rushing to open a new tab on his laptop, one that doesn’t involve searches on where to find lost hybrids or homeless hybrid shelters. He gets a tab open, staring blankly at the homepage of a news website while he tries to peek over his shoulder without looking suspicious. 

“Up to no good, love?” Nick asks, moving to sit along the edge of Louis’ desk, tapping his fingers against the wooden surface. 

“No, just wanted to check the weather, see what that winter storm is doing. I just wanted to see if it was going to come sooner rather than later,” Louis states as he reaches for the mouse, gliding the cursor around the screen before he clicks the weather icon. “It’s a brutal winter, someone should check up on it, wouldn’t want those designer shoes walking in the snow.” 

“Mhm,” Nick hums, and Louis feels as he leans down, resting a hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis taps his foot against the ground, his leg vibrating as his skin itches, wanting for Nick to go away. “What’s that tab there? The one with the title ‘Five Acres Hybrid Shelter’?” 

“That’s nothing,” Louis says, quickly moving the cursor over to click the tiny x, closing it before Nick can fight him for control of the computer. He closes the other tabs, moving quickly and shoving Nick away from him. “What do you even want?” 

“I came out here to see if you were ready for lunch, usually you’re whining outside my door like a lost puppy. However, today it’s been silent. I got worried you might have withered away to nothing, so color me surprised when I see that you’re stalking the Internet for hybrid shelters.”

“Color me annoyed when I say that it’s none of your business what I might be or might not be searching on the Internet,” Louis bites back, staring up at Nick in annoyance, because he’s already shown that he just doesn’t fucking get it. And Louis isn’t going to sit here and listen to Nick rattle off about Liam like he’s some kind of charity case. It’s not like that, and Louis isn’t doing this and some kind of privilege guilt, like he can’t enjoy his life unless he’s taken someone of less fortunate status under his wings. 

“Louis, you’ve really got to stop obsessing about this. He left for a reason; he doesn’t want you to find him. Why can’t you leave him alone?”

“I don’t know,” Louis says, feeling frantic and a little out of control. His nerves are on fire again, the pressure in his chest tightening up again, like he has to work harder to breathe. He doesn’t know why this feeling keeps washing over him, like desperate urge that’s pulling him in forty different directions. “I don’t know how to explain it, I really don’t. It’s like…I just have to do this. I absolutely have to find him, somehow and I know you don’t get it. I don’t get it. But when I think about ignoring it, when I think about living my life and leaving Liam alone, I feel like I’m drowning.”

Nick looks at him for a moment, pensive expression on his face. He’s thinking about something, calculating it all in his head before he sighs, seemingly giving up on whatever he’s struggling with. “All right, I’m going to tell you something, and only because you’re acting like a miserable, desperate sap about a hybrid that you barely know. I don’t understand it, but if you’re truly that distressed about him leaving, then I might know where you can find him,” Nick says. He looks pained as he talks, like something inside of him is trying to fight against what he’s doing. 

“I’d really appreciate it,” Louis states, doing his best to make his eyes go wide and make his expression sincere. 

Nick sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Do you know the section of town that no one goes to? The shitty part that’s been abandoned for years, where your parents forbidden you to hang out, but teenagers are always trying to turn into their own little party haven?” 

Louis’ eyebrows knit together, because he knows what Nick is talking about. There used to be a factory on the other side of town, surrounded by brownstone apartment buildings and houses, but after a series of riots and the factory burning down, people fled, vacating the area and no one has been back since. He remembers in his high school, his friend Oliver had run away from home and tried to hide out there for a while, but ended up coming back after three days. 

Louis has never been there before, his grandfather telling him horror stories about the area and scaring him into going. Thinking back on it, his mother probably had bribed him into doing it. Growing up a little, he’s learned that the area has become over run by the homeless, squatters living in the abandoned home and complexes, seeking shelter and a place to call home. As the thought comes into mind, he’s hit with a realization, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open slightly as he looks at Nick. 

“It’s filled with homeless people, isn’t it?” Louis asks, watching as Nick nods his head slowly. 

“It’s not just for the homeless and runaways, hybrids have been known to dwell there. You should check there. It’d make sense if he got separated from someone, waiting it out until the snow had melted before he went back. You should check there,” Nick says, and Louis smiles, rushing forward to hug Nick quickly before he makes to grab his coat and things, ready to find Liam.


	6. Chapter 6

It’s easy to find the section of town where he thinks Liam might be, he manages to catch a cab to the very end of it, the divider between the inhabited and uninhabited, but the driver will only take him so far, refusing to go beyond a certain point, and refusing to wait for Louis, which works out fine, because he had to borrow money from Nick in order to make the fare anyway. Money that was only borrowed after Louis said he was going to walk there and Nick refused to allow it to happen, he figures that he can leave out the details about having to walk anyway when he talks to Nick about this tomorrow. 

He makes his way down the street, tripping over cracks in the sidewalk as he goes. There’s not much to look at in the winter, but Louis thinks that this place probably isn’t much to look at even if the trees had leaves or the vines over taking some of the buildings were green instead of brown and dead. It’s all dirt, dead patches of grass and deteriorating buildings. A ghost town if he ever saw one. 

Chunks of brick lie on the ground, buildings missing their roofs, windows, and sections of walls to reveal the interior, the crumbling floor and loose wires. It’s not safe here, not because it’s vacated and he’s alone, but because he knows that no one should be forced to live in conditions like these. 

It sends a jolt through his body, an unpleasant feeling rattling away at his insides when he remembers that this might be where Liam is. 

He walks for a mile before he stops, resting on a cement bench similar to the ones at the bus stops in town, the section where he lives. He doesn’t know where he should begin, the area stretches on for miles, further than he can see, and it’s overwhelming. 

There’s not much time until sunset, and he doesn’t want to be trapped here in the dark, an area that he doesn’t know. Nick will come get him, of course he will, but he’s not leaving without some kind of dent in his progress to find Liam. 

The only problem, there doesn’t appear to be anyone here. 

He glances along the rows of abandoned buildings across from him, trying to spot someone that could talk to him, but as far as he can tell, there’s no one inside of them. 

Louis pulls himself up slowly when the backs of his thighs begin to grow numb, the cold of the cement seeping through his jeans and penetrating his skin. He dusts them off as he walks, trying to get a bit of feeling back into them as he follows the overpass. It takes him between houses, through over-grown vegetation, the dirt caking onto his shoes. He wishes briefly that he had stopped at home to change into his boots instead of risking the trek in his warm, dry weather shoes.

It’s when the dirt slowly transfers into a mixture of nature and gravel that he hears a noise behind him, the shrubs moving around without a trace of wind. 

He stills his motions, standing up a little straighter as he glances around slowly, eyes scanning the perimeter to see where the noise might have come from. 

He’s in a clearing, abandoned buildings well behind him, the overpass stretching out over his head, stopping in the distance when it reaches the ground, the little bit of highway no longer in use. The area is vacant enough that he should be able to see whoever is behind him, but he doesn’t and it sends a chill down his spine. 

Louis keeps walking, ears in tune to his surroundings, head held up a little higher as he walks, making his way towards the end of the overpass where he can see billows of smoke rising into the air. He walks a little faster, tugging his jacket closer to his chest, and nearly jumping out of skin when he feels something brush against his thigh. 

He nearly falls over, tripping over his feet as he tries to spin around. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, clutching at his heart as he stares at two little boys in front of him. They’re staring up at him wide eyes, the one with the darker skin and hair standing behind the other one with a mess of curls spilling out of his beanie. They’re looking at Louis carefully, studying him closing until the curly one says, “Why haven’t you got a tail?” 

The little boy swings his around in the front of him, grabbing it with his hand and showing off the chestnut brown extremity. 

Louis takes a better look at the pair of them, the jet-black tail clutched tightly in the other boy’s hand, the color of it matching the hair underneath his hat. They’re wearing puffy winter coats, covered in dirt with holes in the arms. Louis doesn’t need to see underneath their hats to know that they’re hybrids, little children of hybrids, but hybrids nonetheless. 

“Can you help me?” Louis asks, ignoring the question about his tail, or lack there of, really. He doesn’t know what to say to them, doesn’t want to call himself a human when they’re just as much of a human as he is, minus the cat-like features. “I’m looking for someone. Um, he’s got a tail, if that helps.” 

“I know lots of peoples with tails,” the little boy says, staring up at Louis. 

“That’s good,” Louis says, nodding his head. “Then you should be able to help me. His tail is brown, kind of like yours but lighter, not as dark. He’s got brown eyes and his name is Liam.”

The little boy gasps, smiling widely at Louis. “That’s my Daddy. Zayn, he knows my Daddy.”

The other little boy, Zayn turns away when he sees Louis glance down at him, hiding behind the first little boy a little more. “Harry, we’re not allowed to talk to the people without tails.” 

“Since when?” The little boy, Harry replies, frowning, his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Papa said so.” 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Louis says, unsure about how to go about this whole thing. “I’m just looking for Liam. He spent the night at my house, and ran away. I thought maybe I’d be able to find him here. I just want to know if he’s all right.”

The little boys both look up at him for a moment before the one, Harry, shrugs his shoulders and says, “okay.” He takes the other little boy’s hand, holding onto it tightly and starts walking past Louis, heading towards the end of the overpass. 

“I’m Harry,” the little boys, turning to smile at Louis when he catches up to them, walking side by side. “This is my Zayn, but he’s very shy.”

“I’m Louis.” 

They walk together until the smoke gets closer and Louis is able to see that it’s coming out of trashcans, and a giant makeshift fire pit. The fires are surrounded by tents made of blankets and tarps, random bits of cloth, nothing sturdy, nothing to keep out the bitter chill of the air. Louis tries not to stare as they walk through them, but he can feel the eyes on his back as he walks, following closely behind Harry and Zayn. 

They walk past a building, heads peeking out of it, some with ears on the tops of their heads like Liam, others like his own. He wonders how the humans and hybrids interact, if they leave each other alone or if they’ve created a pact since they’re both out of their own, struggling. 

Before they can round the corner of the building, Zayn is shrugging out of Harry’s grasp, pulling away and saying, “I’m going to find Papa.” He turns away from them, running as fast as his body will allow. 

“Is he all right?” Louis asks, turning down to glance at Harry once more. 

“My Zayn is very shy,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like his own words but rather ones that have been spoken to him on a repeated basis. He wonders if it’s Liam who keeps reminding Harry that Zayn is shy or if it’s someone else. “My Daddy is over there.” 

Louis follows the finger that Harry is holding out, pointing in the direction of a tent that’s built between two trees, it’s own private fire going. Liam’s standing outside, his back turned towards Harry and Louis as they cut through the little path to get to him, Louis’ holding his breath with every step he takes closer to him. 

“Daddy, I got your friend,” Harry says when they’re finally close to Liam, coming up behind him and grabbing onto his legs. He smiles up at the older hybrid; a loud purr emitted in the air as Liam touches his head, massaging his scalp through the cap. 

“What are you talking about?” Liam asks, smiling down at Harry. 

“Your friend,” Harry says, pointing over towards Louis. “He don’t have a tail.” 

Liam glances up and sees Louis, and Louis doesn’t miss the way that his entire body freezes, his expression frantic as he glances around. He bends down slowly, picking Harry up and holding him in his arms, staring at Louis with wide eyes, staring intently at Louis. 

“Um, hi,” Louis says, shoving his hands back into his pockets. He feels a bit like an idiot, but he had to make sure that Liam was okay, an instinct he doesn’t understand, one that he’s not sure he could explain properly without scaring Liam even more. “I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. You ran off, and I didn’t know how to find you or get a hold of you, and then you weren’t near the coffee shop, so I got worried. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Um, are you okay?” 

Liam doesn’t answer, he just stares at Louis, his eyes scanning over him over and over again. Louis releases a deep breath and nods his head; he’s willing to wait for Liam to figure out what to do. While Liam stares at him, Louis surveys their surroundings, dropping his eyes down to the ground to the ratty blanket lying on the ground, covered in pink roses that extends to the inside of the tent. It’s made of a blue tarp, a flimsy piece of plastic bent over a string that connects between the two trees. There’s an opening cut out of it, a slit in the middle to allow access and as the wind blows, Louis can see inside of it, seeing the food from his house that went missing, the other dirty blankets lying in a heap in the corner. 

Louis’ stomach twists at the thought of Liam sleeping on the cold ground, the little boy, his son, lying next to him, especially when he knows that another snowstorm is coming. There’s no way that the blanket isn’t wet, dampening from the melting snow from the storm that happened when Liam was with Louis. 

“I get why you left,” Louis says, tearing his eyes away from the dirt and the grime covering the ground, their clothes, extending all the way up to Harry’s exposed skin. Liam looks better, having taken a shower at Louis’ house, but he’s by no means clean. “You had to get your son, right? Harry?” 

Liam’s grip tightens on Harry as he nods his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Louis. 

“Liam, um, there’s another storm coming, and I can’t, under good conscious, allow you and your son to sleep outside. I can’t. Would you come home with me? I can make you a warm meal, and give you a dry, warm bed to sleep in. You can take a warm bath, anything you want, if you come back.” 

Liam stares at him, chewing on his plump bottom lip, looking back and forth between Harry and Louis, his son still smiling at Louis, not fazed about what’s happening around him. Liam looks torn, and confused, unsure about the decision that he should be making. Louis can’t tell what he’s thinking, but if he had to guess it has more to do with Harry than anything else, if taking him to a strangers house is the right thing. Or so Louis would guess. 

“You can say no, if you want. I won’t be angry. I just need to know that you’re all right.”

Liam shakes his head, releasing a deep breath. He whispers something in Harry’s ear and Harry nods his head, allowing Liam to set him down on the ground before he disappears into the tent. 

When Harry comes out, he’s carrying a blanket, green in color. It has patches of different fabrics, all the squares stitched together. “I’m ready,” he says, smiling at Liam before he turns to look at Louis. 

Louis’ body sags with relief as he nods his head, waiting for Liam to pick up Harry to follow him. 

~~~~ 

“Wow,” Harry gasps, walking through Louis’ front door, checking out his house. “Daddy this isn’t like our house. How many people sleep here?” 

“Usually just me, so one,” Louis answers, shrugging out of his winter coat, watching as Harry’s mouth drops open. “Well, they’ll be three with you guys here.”

“But it’s so big,” Harry shouts, staring up at Louis as Liam tries to take off his coat. It looks difficult, the zipper snagging several times on the frayed edges until it’s finally off, revealing layers upon layers of clothing on Harry, each dirty and worse for wear. “Daddy, can you believe that?”

Liam smiles at him, nodding his head as he begins to neatly fold the clothes that came off Harry’s body, four sweaters and three t-shirts, one of them still on his body. Louis sits down on the bottom stair, watching as Harry pulls off two pairs of pants to reveal a little pair of jeans with a hole in the knee before he plops down on the ground to remove the shoes on his feet. 

“If you want to go upstairs to take a bath or something you can, I’ll pull out the clothes you wore the other night, and I’ll bring out a big sweater for him. It’ll cover everything and I can clean all these, if you want,” Louis says, looking down at Liam, hoping that he’ll get in answer in return. 

“What’s a bath?” Harry asks, looking up at Louis, pulling off a pair of wool socks, a hole in the toe. 

“It’s where you use water and soap to, um, clean your body and your hair. You’re usually naked,” Louis says. 

“Oh,” Harry says, his eyes lighting up. “A wash. No, we can’t do a wash right now, Mister…um, what’s your name?” 

“Louis.” 

“Mr. Louis, we can’t do a wash. It’s too cold. Daddy says that’s not very good. I’ll get, um,” Harry says, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Daddy, what will I get if I wash in the cold?”

“Hypothermia,” Liam replies quietly, still folding Harry’s enormous stack of clothing, his hands gently sliding across the clothing as he goes. 

“See, you can’t wash until it’s warm outside,” Harry says, nodding his head, a serious expression on his face. 

“No, you can do it here, if you like. I’ve got a tub upstairs and the water gets very hot sometimes, if you’re not careful. I could show you, if you like.” 

“Upstairs?” Harry questions, looking between Liam and Louis, confusion written across his face. 

“Follow me,” Louis says, standing up and trudging up the stairs towards his bathroom, flicking the light on and pushing the door open. 

“Wow,” Harry says, glancing around. “What’s this?” 

Louis glances down to see he’s pointing towards the toilet, holding the lid up and staring at the water in the bowl. Liam reaches out and pulls him away, his skin stained pink, blushing and trying to hide it away from Louis. 

“That’s a toilet,” Louis informs him, side stepping the pair to pull back the shower curtain. “And this is a bathtub, you take baths in here, or um, a wash. Do you want to take one?”

Liam looks at him for a moment before he nods his head, quick and short, so Louis starts the water, waiting until the temperature is warm before he pulls the knob to take the water from the tub spout to the shower head, the water raining down into the basin. 

“Wow,” Harry gasps, kicking out of Liam’s grasp until he’s down on the floor, staring over the edge of the tub at the water. 

“I’ll get you some towels and lay the clothes out on the bed. Do you remember where the bedroom is?” Liam nods his head. “All right, well, I’ll leave it there and put the towels outside the door. I’ll wait to clean your clothes until after you’ve bathed. I’ll be downstairs, so don’t worry about anything.” 

“Okay,” Liam mutters, sparing a quick glance in Louis’ direction before he starts pulling at Harry’s shirt, trying to take it off. 

Louis takes a deep breath, exiting the bathroom quietly. 

~~~ 

Louis’ sat at the kitchen table, working on his latest book when Harry comes bounding into the room, one of Louis’ sweaters draped over his small frame, his hands trapped inside the sleeves. 

“Your house is so big,” Harry says with the same amazed expression he had earlier. 

“How was your bath?” Louis asks, setting his pen down on the table, watching as Harry climbs onto the chair next to him. 

“Very good, thank you,” Harry says, settling into his seat. “Daddy put some stuff in my hair, it smells very nice. Smell it.” He tilts his head towards Louis and he indulges him, making a show of inhaling the scent of Harry’s hair, smelling the same shampoo he used earlier in the day. “I like a bath better than a wash.” 

“Harry, where do you do your washes?” 

“Um, Daddy calls it a river,” Harry says, sitting up on his knees to get a better look at the papers on the table. “But we don’t have the white stuff. What’s this?” 

“I’m writing a book for children, that one is about a squirrel. I don’t know what he’s going to do, what do you think he should do?” Louis asks, leaning forward and showing Harry the rough sketches he has of what the squirrel will look like. 

Harry stares down at the papers intently, shifting them around to glance at the imagery on them, his face twisting in confusion when he reaches a page filled with words. “What’s a book?” He asks, turning to glance up at Louis. 

“It’s a place to write down stories. It’s filled with words and adventures, worlds that people make up in their minds,” Louis explains. 

“This is a book?” Harry asks, holding up a sheet of paper. 

“No, that’s a piece of a paper, but you use the paper to write your book down. That’s a book,” Louis says, pointing towards the cookbook on his counter. 

“You have lots of stuff,” Harry says, glancing around the kitchen. “Lots of stuff for one people.” 

“Yeah, it’s probably a lot different from your home, right? What do you do at your house?” 

“My Zayn and me like to go exploring. Today when we saw you, we were playing pirates. We were trying to find the treasure, but we found you. My Zayn said that you weren’t the treasure.” 

Louis nods his head slowly, standing up from the table when the oven timer dings behind them. “Why do you call him ‘my Zayn’?” 

“He’s mine,” Harry says like it’s the obvious answer and Louis was stupid to have asked. “My Daddy said he’s mine.”

“Does he call you his Harry?” Louis questions, setting the casserole on top of the stove and turning the oven off. 

“He’s shy,” Harry replies, sighing as he sets the paper back down, shoving it out of the way when Louis sets a plate full of food in front of him. “Where’s my daddy?” 

As if on cue, Liam enters the kitchen, wearing the same out he wore the first night in Louis’ house, a shy look on his face as he occupies the seat Louis was just sitting in. He offers Louis a smile when he gives him a plate of food, and Louis takes that as a sign that Liam, despite how hesitate he is and was about coming here is thankful in some aspect. 

~~~ 

Harry falls asleep on the couch, his cheek pressed into Liam’s thigh as the snow begins to fall outside, tiny flakes dancing in the wind as they fall to the Earth. He’d freaked out a bit when Louis turned on the television, squealing in excitement and jumping up and down as he watched the pictures play out in screen. 

Louis had laughed, flipping through the channels until he found something age appropriate. It had been funny, an action that showed Harry’s innocence and his lack of privilege in his life thus far. He didn’t know what anything was, but he embraced it all without question, and something inside Louis stirs, rattling away at him. He doesn’t know what it is, but it radiates through out his chest, a pleasant warm feeling that sticks to his bones, anchoring him down. 

He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by asking Liam and Harry to come back to his house, he doesn’t know if Harry’s Zayn is safe and warm, and he feels a pang of guilt at not having extended the invitation to the other small child. But Liam’s safe and Liam’s warm, and Louis’ doesn’t have to worry about him, and for some reason that’s enough for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Louis goes above and beyond at breakfast, waking up earlier than he needs to in order to make a nice breakfast for Harry and Liam. He wants to do something great for them, like a hearty meal to show Liam what a great place Louis is offering him. He doesn’t want them to leave, doesn’t want to have to go to sleep at night and imagine Harry and Liam curled up together underneath a flimsy blanket and a flimsy sheet of plastic protecting them from the elements. 

It’s a not way to live, and Louis knows that other people live that way, has seen it, but there’s something about Liam that makes Louis want to take him away from that. 

So he makes a grand breakfast, pancakes and eggs and meats along with orange juice, or milk if that’s what Liam and Harry would prefer. He also made coffee, Louis hates coffee, but he made it, just in case Liam would want that instead of orange juice or milk or tea, because Louis is having tea. 

He’s setting it all down on the table when he hears the sound of feet approaching. He glances up to see Liam standing in the doorway, holding a sleepy Harry in his arms, the little hybrid bundled up in two of Louis’ sweaters and a thick pair of wool socks much too large for him on his feet. 

“Good morning,” Louis says, smiling at the pair of them. He pulls out two chairs, motioning for them to sit down. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles, nodding his head as he carefully sets Harry down in one of the chairs before he takes his own, pulling Harry close to him. 

“What was that thing I slept on?” Harry asks, adjusting himself so he’s kneeling. 

“That’s a bed, specifically a mattress. Why?” Louis questions, setting empty cups down in front of everyone’s place setting. 

“That’s a bed?” Harry asks, looking at Louis with wide eyes. “It’s very fancy. You only need a blanket, Mr. Louis.”

Louis smiles and nods his head, not knowing what to say about the situation, so instead when he speaks, he says, “Do you know what you want to drink? I have milk, orange juice, tea, and coffee. Anything you want. You could even have water, if you wanted to.” 

“I don’t know what those things are,” Harry cries, shrugging his shoulders. “Daddy?” 

Liam looks at Harry for a moment, like he’s trying to figure something out, more than just what they should be drinking. It takes a beat before he mumbles out a quiet answer of “milk”. 

Louis gets it prepared, dropping his tea bag into his mug before he fills their glasses with the white liquid. Harry’s eyes light up at the sight, bouncing happily in his seat before he takes a sip, letting out a gasp before he takes another drink, setting the cup down and saying, “Daddy that’s yummy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Louis says, smiling as he takes his seat. “I made this breakfast for you guys, um, just something special to let you know that I’m happy to have you both in my home. Not just for now, but for however long you want to stay here.”

Liam looks at him and nods his head before he slides Harry’s plate over to begin cutting his food up into bite size pieces. Harry watches him, and Louis can feel the excitement rolling off his body as he stares at the food. Liam whispers something quietly to Harry who nods his head and turns around to smile at Louis. 

“Mr. Louis, thank you for my breakfast,” Harry says, grinning at Louis before he starts eating, using his hands more than he uses his fork. 

“You’re welcome,” Louis mutters, smiling at the two of them. “And I have to head into work today, the snow storm wasn’t as bad as they forecasted it to be, not surprising, but you’re both welcome to eat anything you want. You can, um, use anything that you find in my house. I want you both to feel welcome here, so you can use anything.” 

“Can I watch that box again? With the pictures?” Harry asks, his mouth full of food. 

“Yeah, you can watch the television. I mean, as long as that’s okay with your dad.” 

“Daddy?”

Liam nods his head quickly, taking a drink of his milk so he doesn’t have to say anything and Louis sighs, because he’s the only person in the world that can’t get Liam to open up, and he doesn’t understand why. 

Louis smiles at him and stares back at him, his cheeks slowly tinting red before he smiles back, soft and hesitant

~~~~

“All right, let me get this straight,” Nick says slowly, scratching his scalp. “You found your little hybrid and it turns out that he has a little hybrid of his own, um, a son. He’s got a son.”

“Yup,” Louis says, nodding his head but continuing to keep his gaze on his computer screen. “And he’s honestly the cutest little boy in the world. He asks a million questions, not because he’s at that age, you know the one where kids are always questioning everything. No, he’s asking questions because he doesn’t know what anything is. He didn’t know what a bath was.” 

“Yeah, I remember when you mentioned that the first three times,” Nick mumbles and Louis to glare at him, watching as his friend rolls his eyes at him. “I remember that bit, but what I’m trying to get straight is why you’re looking for a new mattress. Why do you need a new mattress?” 

“I don’t, not really,” Louis says, turning back around to continue scanning mattress prices online. “It’s just, if Liam and his son are going to be staying with me like I hope they will want to, then I don’t want to be sleeping on the couch every night, so I’m wanting to get another bed set up in the spare bedroom, so I can get my room back and they’ll have their own. Don’t you think that they’ll want to stay if they have their own room?” 

“I don’t know, Louis. I’ve never brought strangers into my house and tried to make accommodations for them after they’ve run off,” Nick mutters. 

Louis sighs, shaking his head. “I know that it’s crazy, and I know that it doesn’t make much sense, but it feels like the right thing. I can’t explain it. I really can’t, I’ve tried, believe me. I don’t get much sleep on the couch, so I stay up at night just wondering why I feel like this pull, like I’m tethered to Liam. So, I know that it’s crazy, but I’d really appreciate your help buying this bed. I just want a place for them that’s not the freezing cold ground.” 

Louis can feel Nick’s eyes on the back of his head, staring at him for a moment before the other boy sighs. “All right, put it on your card, the one you use to buy our drinks and stuff. Get whatever else you want or need with it, blankets, stuff for the boy. I don’t really care. But after this, you’re getting to work, do you understand?”

“Anything you say, boss,” Louis says, smiling widely at Nick over his shoulder before begins adding a wide variety of things to his shopping cart. He’s going to have to find a way to pay Nick back for this, but he’ll worry about that later. 

~~~~ 

Louis gets home from work a little earlier than expected, Nick having left early to take care of a family emergency involving his mother. And without his boss at work, he wasn’t needed, so Nick dropped him off at his house before taking off towards his parents. 

When Louis enters his home it’s quiet, and he knows, his stomach sinking down to his feet with the knowledge that Liam and Harry are gone. He’s not sure how he knows, but every second that passes as he tugs off his jacket and boots is enough to make his palms sweat up from nerves. 

“Liam?” He calls out into the silence of the house, trying his hardest to listen for someone to shout back. No one does.

He does a sweep through his house, checking every room only to find the clothes he let Harry and Liam wear folded nicely on his bed and nothing else, not even food taken from the pantry like before. 

This time he knows where Liam is, and he puts on his snow gear and makes his way to the other side of town, the section of abandonment that he found Liam in before. He wants to find him, wants to figure out what it’s all about, wants to know if Liam feels the same tightness in his chest when he leaves Louis as Louis feels when he finds out that he’s gone. It’s the oddest feeling, this pull inside of him, like he needs Liam when he hardly knows him, but whatever it is shoves the rational part of Louis’ mind, the part telling him that it’s pointless to find Liam to the very back of his mind. 

~~~~ 

This time, Louis knows the path to the area where Liam lives, his little tent tucked safely between two trees. The walks a little more difficult with the snow beneath his feet, leaving Louis slightly winded as he trudges through the added element. 

There’s no one out, none that he can see, but he doesn’t try to glance up at the windows of the abandoned buildings to see if anyone is peeking out of them at him. He knows where Liam is going to be, along with Harry. He thinks that Liam is come kind of creature of habit, first with his fleeing and now, hopefully, with his returning. 

Louis only hopes that this time he can convince Liam to stay a little longer, a lot longer, actually. 

He can see the section of overpass where the tents begin, more fires going today than there was before, and when he nears the edge of it a weight collides with his legs. Glancing down he sees Harry smiling up at him, mitten-covered hands wrapped around his thigh. The other little boy, Zayn is standing just behind him, glancing around nervously and staring at Louis like he doesn’t know what to do. 

“What are you doing here, Mr. Louis?” Harry asks, stepping back towards Zayn, grabbing onto his hand and looking at Louis. 

“I came to see your Daddy. You both left before I got home. Do you know why you left, Harry?” Louis questions, hoping that the little hybrid can help him in some capacity. 

“Daddy said we had to go home,” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I had to see my Zayn. My Zayn missed me, right?” 

Louis can’t hear Zayn’s answer, but whatever it is, it makes Harry smile widely, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Zayn in a hug. He turns back to look at Louis afterwards and says, “My daddy is at our house.” 

Louis nods his head and bites down on his tongue to prevent from saying that a flimsy piece of tarp and a couple blankets hardly makes a house, but Harry doesn’t deserve to hear a statement like that, and from Harry’s behavior in Louis’ house, he wholeheartedly believes that Louis lives in a place that’s not a house. 

“Do you think that you can take me to your house?” Louis asks, smiling down at the little boy. 

“Harry, Papa won’t be happy,” Zayn mumbles, biting his lip. 

“Why not?” Harry asks, the confusion evident on his face. 

“He doesn’t have a tail,” Zayn says, pointing towards Louis. And Louis wonders who this Papa person is and why he’s so against people without tails, or why he’s so fearful of them. Not everyone treats hybrids horribly, or at least he thinks anyway. He’s never witnessed it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. 

Louis question is soon answered because seemingly out of nowhere comes an angry looking man heading their way. He’s not wearing a hat so his pale furry ears are evident, folding back carefully, his dusty blond tail bushing up behind him. Louis’ seen it in cats, the images of them angry with their backs arced, ears folded back, and tails puffed out. It’s astonishing to see on someone who looks just like him, with slight physical alterations. 

“What the hell are you doing?” The hybrid spits out, glaring daggers at Louis. If looks could kill, Louis would be dead and buried six feet under by now. Both Harry and Zayn flinch at the voice, pulling closer together. 

“I was just asking them where Liam was,” Louis sputters out, taking a cautious step back. 

“How do you know Liam?” The blond asks, his pupils reduced to slits, his words coming out in a sound almost like a hiss. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Louis. Liam’s stayed with me a few times.”

“Papa,” Zayn says, letting go of Harry’s hand to step in front of the older hybrid. 

Louis watches as his demeanor changes completely, softening as he picks up Zayn, brushing some snow off the top of his coat. “Are you okay, baby? Nothing was happening to you, right? You’re okay?” 

Zayn nods his head and shoves his face into the pale neck of the other hybrid, the skin reddening from exposure to the cold, much like Harry and Zayn’s cheeks, both rosy from the cold. 

“Papa Niall, that’s Mr. Louis. He’s very nice. Member? He has a bath,” Harry says, nodding his head. 

The blond, Niall, apparently, nods his head before he glances up to look at Louis, studying him carefully. “Why did you come here?” 

“I just wanted to come by and talk to Liam. He keeps running away and I’m only trying to help. I know that you might not need it,” a lie, but Louis isn’t going to make anyone in this situation feel like Louis thinks he’s better than them because of his life of privilege. He’s not better than them. He just wants to help, an urge deep inside of him that tugs at his chest that he can’t explain. “And I know that you might not want it, but I just want to help. I have a lot of space in my house, more than I know what to do with, and for some reason, I’d like Liam there. He comes but he always leaves and I should take a hint, but I just can’t. I can’t explain it to you because I don’t understand it, but I’d like to talk to Liam. You’re welcome to be involved in the conversation, but may I please see him?” 

“Wait here,” Niall grits out, glaring at Louis. He tightens his grip on Zayn, the darker haired hybrid peeking out of the safety of Niall’s neck to look at Louis, studying him carefully. Niall tries to take Harry’s hand, but he pulls away, stumbling over towards Louis. “Harry, you can’t stay here. You’re coming with me to go see your daddy.” 

“Louis has to come, Papa Niall,” Harry says, reaching up and grabbing onto Louis’ hand. “He wants to see Daddy, too.” 

“Harry, come on,” Niall says. 

“Okay, come on, Louis,” Harry says, tugging Louis forward. He walks past Niall, the hybrid emits a low growl, and the sound sends chills up Louis’ spine as they walk past him. 

Louis allows Harry to tug him through the makeshift tents, making their way towards their house, Harry’s choice of words, not Louis’. 

“Harry,” Louis whispers quietly, aware of the blond’s eyes on the back of his neck. “Who is that man carrying Zayn?” 

“That’s my Zayn’s Papa. He doesn’t like the people that got no tails. But you’re very nice, Louis,” Harry answers, smiling up at Louis. And Louis is once again left wondering what might have happened to the hybrids living here, how awful humans like him have been to them in the past and current times.


	8. Chapter 8

They find Liam at the little blue tarp tent that Harry calls their home just like last time, with his back turned to them. It looks like he’s adding sticks to the fire, tossing them into the barrel to keep the warmth. The air is bitterly cold, and it feels sharp as it nips at the bare skin of Louis’ cheeks. He wonders why the hybrids don’t appear as cold as he feels, their skin is rosy in the parts that he can see, but their teeth aren’t chattering and they’re not tightening their jackets around their bodies as they take the last few steps to get to Liam. 

Harry pulls away from Louis as they get closer, breaking out into a run until he collapses into Liam’s body, saying something that Louis can’t make out but then Liam is looking at him, his eyes wide and Louis offers a short wave and a tiny smile, hoping that Liam won’t yell at him like the blond, Niall did. 

“Stay here,” Niall says, shoving past Louis, Zayn still in his arms, watching Louis carefully over his father’s shoulder. 

Louis stops, not wanting to cross whatever line might have been laid out for him the moment that he met the blond. He didn’t realize, not fully anyway, that Zayn’s father might be something to Harry and Liam. He didn’t think that Zayn was more than just Harry’s friend, even if the little hybrid calls him his Zayn. He feels a bit foolish for not having thought of it sooner, and he wonders if Niall is angry because he’s taken Liam in and tried his best to keep him warm, and then another time he took Harry in, taking him out of the harsh cold but not stopping to think that maybe Zayn should have gone with them until it was too late. He hopes that’s not the case. 

Louis can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can tell that Niall’s muttering something angrily, his voice elevating at times and making Zayn cups his hands over his ears. Liam’s mouth barely moves but he’s saying something because Niall is nodding his head as he listens, interrupting Liam every few seconds. 

Louis stands there, feeling a bit out of place within their little group, family even. It’s obvious now that Louis has time to look around that Zayn and Niall share this tent with Liam and Harry, the four of them sleeping in the cramped little space at night. They’re a family and Louis broke them up, no wonder Niall was so angry at just the sight of him. 

He feels awful, like the ground should swallow him up and pull him away, but he also wants to step forward, break up their conversation and apologize profusely because he wasn’t trying to ruin what they have established. He wants to explain that there is this pull inside of him that keeps telling him to protect Liam, to keep him sheltered and warm and fed and clean and just all around improve the situation that he was once in. And not just on a basic level of human compassion and decency, but on a level far greater than that, one that he doesn’t understand, not yet anyway. 

He doesn’t have to worry about interrupting their conversation to apologize because suddenly four hybrids are turning to look at him and he swallows as Niall says, “What are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier,” Louis says, clearing his throat. “I, um, probably shouldn’t have come, but I wanted to see Liam.” 

“Why?” Niall asks. 

“I don’t know. I want to help him. I need to, actually, which sounds crazy but I can feel it, you know?” 

“No, I don’t,” Niall says shaking his head.

“I can’t explain it, I really can’t, but I just came back because I wanted to tell him that I bought a bed, um, for him and Harry if they wanted to come and stay with me. I know it’s crazy, because, like, we barely know each other. But it’s winter and it’s cold, and… I bought a bed.” 

“What kind of bed?” Harry asks, tilting his head to the side, as he looks up at Louis, unaware of the glances exchanged between Liam and Niall behind him. “Is it like my bed or your bed?” 

“Um, it’s like my bed at my house. But it would be your bed and whoever wishes to share it with you,” Louis says, looking at Harry quickly and smiling before he glances back up at the other two. “I know that this might be weird but… I can’t explain it.” 

“You’re never going to go away are you?” Niall questions, studying him carefully and Louis has the decency to blush at the question. 

“I mean, I could…Maybe, I’d just want to make sure that Liam is all right.” He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “I hope you don’t take this wrong, but it’s too cold to be sleeping on the ground. It’s too cold to have nothing but that thin sheet of plastic protecting you from the wind and the cold and the snow. I just want to help Liam.” 

“What about me?” Harry shouts, hands on his hips as he glares up at Louis. 

“And you, yes. Of course, I’m sorry. And your Zayn and his father, if that’s what you all want. I’ve got enough room,” Louis says. 

Louis bites his lip as Niall turns to look at Liam, the two of them having a silent conversation with their eyes. Zayn’s still in Niall’s arms, hand on his cheek, trying to make him look at him instead of at Liam while Harry clutches onto Liam’s leg, smiling at Louis. 

“Papa Niall, Mr. Louis has a big house. It’s too big for one people. He has too many stuffs for one people. We have to go to Mr. Louis house. My Zayn can have a bath. Zayn, do you want a bath?” Harry asks, looking at Zayn expectantly and Louis feels a little relief to know that someone wants to come back to his house. 

“Zayn, sweetheart, will you go stand by Harry so I can talk to Liam? Hold his hand, please,” Niall instructs, setting Zayn down on the ground and pushing him forward gently before he places a tight grip on Liam’s shoulder and pulls him away. 

Harry clasps Zayn’s hand quickly, smiling at him while the other boy watches as Niall walks away. 

~~~~ 

Louis has all four hybrids sitting at his kitchen table as he scrambles around to get a stew together. It’s the fastest that he thinks anyone in the history of all of history has made a stew, but he wants to show Niall and Zayn and Harry and especially Liam that it’s a good idea to stay with him until… Well, he hasn’t thought about an end date for this whole arrangement but for now, he’d like to think of it as indefinitely, hopefully. 

It had been difficult getting Niall to agree to come with them, adamantly saying no until the very end when Harry had stomped his foot on the ground and said that he liked Louis and he wanted to go, which made Liam change his mind, which in turn made Niall change his mind. Zayn didn’t seem to care as long as Niall was with him. 

Louis walked with them until they ran into the first taxi that they saw, shoving all four hybrids into the backseat, much to the dismay of the driver who mumbled something nasty under his breath that Louis didn’t quite make out, and drove back to his house. He tried not to cringe as he handed the fair over to the driver, not giving him that well of a tip for his rude attitude about Liam, Harry, Niall and Zayn. 

“It should be ready any minute now,” Louis says, smiling nervously at the four of them. 

Liam nods his head and smiles at him, dragging his clasps hands from the table down to his lap. Harry’s resting his head on Liam’s arm, doesn't even bother to acknowledge Louis as he traces patterns onto the tabletop. Zayn is sitting in Niall’s lap, eyes casted downward, while Niall stares directly at Louis, his gaze unwavering despite being offered food. 

“Um,” Louis says, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure if this is something that you’d want, but you’re all welcome to showers and baths. Also, anything in my closet, please feel free to put it on. I can clean your clothing tonight as well, if you want. Um, yeah. I just.” He sighs, releasing a deep breath. “Anything in the house is free for use. Anything.”

“Do you think we’re dirty?” Niall questions, sitting up a little straighter and looking at Louis with a challenge in his eyes, and Louis has no idea what he’s done to personally offend the hybrid, but he can see it clear as day in his features. 

“No,” Louis all but shouts, trying to avoid looking at the dirt caked under Niall’s fingernails, the greasy, mated mess on top of his and Zayn’s head. Harry and Liam look a little better since they bathed here last night, but they both look as though they could use more. But that’s still not why he’s offering. “No. It just feels nice sometimes to take a bath or a shower in the winter; the water is warm when you’re cold. I’m just offering. You don’t have to.”

“A bath is very nice,” Harry says, lifting his head off Liam’s arm to address the table. “Papa Niall, I think my Zayn would really like a bath. I can show him the stuff that makes your hair smell nice.” 

“I think Zayn is fine,” Niall says, shifting Zayn onto his other leg, away from Louis. 

“Niall,” Liam mumbles, looking at him with big, round brown eyes. 

Niall glances up, eyes staring across the table at Liam, and Louis takes the opportunity to turn away from them, letting them have their silent conversation as he fiddles with the stew, checking on it to see that it is finally finished. He shuts the stove off and then gets five bowls out of the cabinet, setting them out on the counter and filling them with food, a little more than he would normally for guests, if he were to have any, and then turns to set them out on the table. 

“Oh this is yummy,” Harry says, smiling up at Louis. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Louis.”

Niall clears his throat and then Zayn says, “thank you, Mr. Louis.”

“My Zayn is so nice,” Harry says around a mouthful of food. “Isn’t my Zayn the very bestest?” 

Louis smiles and nods his head, leaning back against the counter as he eats his meal. Technically there is an empty chair at the table that he could take, but he doesn’t want to sit down it and take the option away from Zayn to eat sitting on a chair instead of on Niall’s lap. 

~~~~ 

“Louis, can we show my Zayn a book? I think he’ll like them,” Harry says, dragging Zayn into the living room to sit on the couch. “I want to show him a book and then that funny box with the pictures. I showed him the bath. He liked it.” 

“Yeah, I can get him a book,” Louis says, getting up from his place to scan his bookshelf for one of his copies of a book he’s written in the past, something suitable for children, one that’s not just flimsy pieces of paper, but rather one he took to get printed from a specialty shop online so he can show it to publishers in hopes of getting them to visualize a final product. It hasn’t worked, but it’s nice to have them around the house for reference material to things he’s done in the past. 

He pulls one off the shelf; it’s pale blue with a picture of a peach and a snail on the cover. He can’t remember the exact details of the story, but he can remember that the peach doesn’t make it to the see end. It’s probably not a suitable children’s book, to kill a peach, but the entire premise of the book was to teach children not to play with their food. 

He makes a mental note to revisit that concept in a less horrific manner at a later date as he hands the book over to Harry, who promptly shoves it into Zayn’s lap. 

“This funny thing is pink,” Harry says, pointing to the snail. “And he’s got a green bag.” He’s talking about his shell, but Louis doesn’t know how to explain why snails have or need shells or even what a shell is, if Harry doesn’t know. It’s a tricky concept, much like the murder of the peach, he’s not sure that he can tell Harry it’s not a bag but a protective armor to make sure he’s not eaten. All Louis remembers from his research is that the shells grow with them. 

He makes a mental note to think of a concept involving a snail with a shell different from the others, but to Harry he says, “You know your colors?” He watches as Zayn stares at the book, his fingers dragging across the cover gently. 

“I do, because my daddy teached me. Papa Niall is helping us learn our numbers,” Harry explains, glancing up at Louis quickly before he turns back towards Zayn. “Isn’t a book nice?”

“I don’t know what it do,” Zayn says, watching as Harry helps him flip through the pages. 

Harry shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just for looking.”

“It’s for reading,” Louis corrects. “Do either of you know how to read yet?”

Zayn shakes his head but Harry asks, “What’s reading?” 

“Um.” Louis bites down on his bottom lip. “Have you been taught your letters yet? Like a-b-c?” 

“Oh yes, we know our letters,” Harry confirms, nodding his head. 

“When you put letters together, they make words, like when you’re talking, those are words made up of letters. But they’re also sounds when you say them, but another way to understand words is by reading them. So reading means that you can understand words when they’re on paper,” Louis explains, hoping that his definition is clear enough. 

Zayn nods his head in response, pulling the book closer to his face so he can stare at the black letters on the page. Harry just looks at him for a moment before huffing out a breath. 

“My dad will teached me,” Harry states. Louis just smiles at him and nods his head, reaching behind Zayn to ruffle Harry’s hair up a bit. 

Later, after Liam has come down from his shower, he turns on the television and watches as Zayn’s eyes light up the same way Harry’s did the night before. He doesn’t show his excitement in the same loud way, but he allows Harry to drag him down to the floor so they can lie down next to each other and watch the screen. 

~~~~ 

After dinner and showers and both Zayn and Harry have fallen asleep, curled up against each other on the floor in front of the television, does Louis take Niall and Liam upstairs to his bedroom. 

“I’ve ordered another bed for the other room, my boss let me do expedited shipping on it, so it should be here sometime tomorrow, hopefully,” Louis explains as he pushes the door open for Niall and Liam, both are carrying a sleeping child in their arms. “I’ll get an extra blanket.”

He side steps out of Liam’s way, smiling at him briefly before he begins digging around through his closet, trying to find a blanket that’ll be warm enough. He figures that, maybe, Niall and Zayn would want their own. He’s not sure how they’re used to sleeping. 

Louis swallows around a lump in his throat, remembering how Niall is Papa to both Harry and Zayn. He’s not heard Zayn address Liam, but it’s fairly obvious that the four of them are a family. The titles are all there; the strong connection between is there. They reply on each other, much like the way that other families do. And Louis feels… 

He feels disappointed and this knot forms in his chest. He also feels a bit silly, because of course Liam had a family and much more reason to go back besides Harry. He should have known. 

Louis grabs one of his thicker blankets, an older green one with white and pink roses over it and carries it back to his bedroom. When he gets there, he finds that Niall has joined Harry and Zayn on the bed, holding Zayn while they both sleep. Liam’s the only one awake, fussing with trying to drag the edge of the blanket over Harry’s body. 

“Here’s another one. You and Harry can use this one, it’ll keep you warm. I’ve got the heat on but I don’t want to turn it up too high at night.” 

He holds the blanket out and waits; Liam seems to be looking at him before he nods, stepping forward to take it from Louis. 

“You won’t leave in the morning, right?” Louis asks, his grip still tight on the blanket, even though Liam is holding onto it as well. 

Liam looks at him for a moment, biting on his lip as he shakes his head. He turns around and glances at the three sleeping figures on the bed, the way that they’re all curled together, wrapped around each other. “No,” he says, turning back to look at Louis. “No. I’ll stay.”

~~~~ 

Louis settles back against the couch, notebook in his lap and a steamy hot cup of tea on the table next to him as he settles in for the night. He wants to work a little on a story, feeling inspired by thoughts of a little kitten family, much like the one that’s curled up in his bed upstairs.


	9. Chapter 9

When Louis wakes up the next morning, it’s to Harry poking him in the cheek, the small hybrid grinning at him widely. 

“Mr. Louis, the sun is up and that means it’s time to wake up,” Harry says, continuing to poke Louis in the cheek until he pushes his hand away, groaning quietly and stretching out his tired limbs. He had been awake far later than he meant to and judging by the orange glow across the sky, the sun hasn’t been up for that long. 

Louis sits up slowly, rubbing his hands up and down his face, trying to wake himself up. He’s not even awake this early for work, most of the time. “Who else is awake?” 

“My daddy,” Harry says, sitting down on the couch next to Louis. “He said that I have to let Niall and my Zayn sleep some more because my Zayn had bad dreams.” 

“And he didn’t want me to sleep?” Louis asks, turning to look at Harry, his eyes squinted from not being used to the light. 

Harry sighs. “I wanted to watch the picture box.” 

“The television?” 

“Yeah. Can you make it work?” Harry asks, looking at Louis with wide green eyes. 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, standing up and grabbing the remote. He presses the button to it on, waits for it to start up and then turns on something that’s animated for Harry. Most children are fascinated with television, but it’s cuter with Harry, watching the way his eyes light up in pure fascination because this is something he’s never experienced before, unlike other children who have grown up in houses filled with TVs. 

He pats Harry on the head before he makes his way to the kitchen, dragging his feet as he goes. Liam’s already in there, his back turned towards Louis as he busies himself with cleaning dishes. From the looks of it, he and Harry already ate something and Louis feels disappointed that he wasn’t able to make a giant breakfast for everyone, but how was he supposed to know that Harry likes to wake up at the same time as the son? 

“Did you sleep all right?” Louis asks, causing Liam to jump and nearly drop a bowl. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Liam stares at him and nods, stepping carefully back towards the sink so he can resume cleaning the dishes that he used. Louis watches him, sighing and shaking his head, wondering when talking to Liam won’t feel like such a chore, like a nuisance that Liam doesn’t want to deal with. 

“Harry said that Zayn had a nightmare, is he all right?” 

“He’s okay,” Liam says quietly, the sound of his voice almost lost behind the sound of the running water. 

“That’s good,” Louis says, nodding his head. He steps around Liam, snatching the kettle off the stove and pausing for a second before he reaches around Liam to fill it. He’s standing inches from him, trying not to press up against him to scare him off, but Liam just waits, barely moving and watching until Louis steps away, setting the kettle back on the stove. 

It’s silent between them, waiting for the whistle of the kettle so he can get his morning tea. Liam’s finished the dishes, setting the last one on the rack and shutting off the water. He doesn’t rush out of the room like Louis expects him to, but he does turn to look at Louis. 

Right before the teapot whistles, Liam says, “We’re not leaving, just so you know.” He looks at Louis for a moment before he casts his gaze back down to the floor. 

“That’s good,” Louis says. “You’re all welcome to stay as long as you like, I hope it’s for a while. Like Harry always says, I have plenty of space for one person, and it’s probably nice to get out of the cold.” 

“Yeah,” Liam says, nodding his head, still staring at the ground. 

“And when I get the money, we can get you all some clothes, or something. I’m sure new ones would be nice, and Harry probably doesn’t want to wear my sweater and wooly socks forever, so clothes would be nice.”

Liam sighs, but Louis can see the tiny curve of his lips lifting up into a smile. 

~~~~ 

When Louis gets in the shower later on after Niall and Zayn have woken up, he begins to panic slightly about where he’s going to get the money to take care of four other people. He knows that food won’t be a problem, he usually makes enough to last him a while, but having to buy clothes is really going to set him back. 

It’s not like he’ll be buying clothes every week, but buying them just the once to last will be a burden enough, then having to start all over again once spring and summer starts, it makes his head pound just thinking about it. He can already see the numbers dropping in his bank account. 

He’s never been a hybrid-clothing store before, doesn’t know how expensive it is. If it’s outrageous, he’s not above buying normal clothing and slicing a hole in the jeans. The pants will be the only problem, he’s seen the way Liam shifts around in Louis’ sweatpants, even though he’s cut the hole in them, and it’s obvious that he’s uncomfortable. 

It’s not going to cost a fortune, but it’s money that he doesn’t necessarily have. 

He knows that he needs to call Nick and figure this all out, because Nick, being the amazing friend and boss that he is, would never let Louis get to the point where money because so low that Louis has to start skipping meals just to pay bills. Nick will give him something to do, like clean his car or do his laundry, anything to help Louis out in a way that makes him feel like he’s working for it, actually earning the money that he’s being given. 

He makes a note to call Nick, to talk to him and schedule another date to clean his house. He’s not ready to talk to Liam and Niall about the financial situation of the house, right now everything is fine, and it should stay fine, as long as he comes up with a solution. He’ll wait until they’re both comfortable, or wait until one of them brings it up, because maybe, just maybe, if he can offer the two of them an opportunity to make their own money, it’ll make them want to stay a little bit longer. 

Liam’s already promised that they’re going to stay, but he’s not sure how long that promise extends to. 

Louis’ thoughts, and shower, are broken when he hears the sound of Harry knocking on the door saying that his Zayn needs to use the pee bowl. Louis sighs, wondering when the right time to tell Harry what things really are is. 

~~~~ 

“Hey, Niall,” Louis says, trying to sound cheerful when he sees the hybrid sitting on the couch, hands in his lap and staring at the wall ahead. He’s not watching the television, not like Harry and Zayn who are sitting on the floor in front of it, Harry’s head resting on Zayn’s shoulder. 

Niall doesn’t answer him, just looks at him quickly before he glances away. 

“I don’t know if you’re interested in doing anything, but you’re more than welcome to use anything you find in the house. I mostly have books, but there are movies, games, anything. You can use my laptop, um, if you-“ Louis trails off, clearing his throat. He doesn’t want to say ‘if you know how’ but he has no idea how much knowledge Liam and Niall have regarding things, because Harry and Zayn are both innocent to it all. 

The two of them (mostly Harry) have been asking him questions all morning about the things they find in the house, like why Louis has people trapped in the little boxes, talking about the pictures he has around the living room. 

“I’m good,” Niall says, casting his gaze over towards Zayn, watching him carefully. 

“Is Zayn your biological son?” Louis asks, unable to think of anything else to ask him. To be honest, Niall kind of scares him. He doesn’t know what lines are laid out, what he shouldn’t be saying and what he can say. 

Niall’s head whips around, glaring at him. “Don’t,” Niall says, before he gets up, moving past Louis towards the kitchen. 

Louis sighs, because apparently that’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed. He makes a note to remember that he’s only allowed to ask Niall basic questions about Zayn, or maybe, he should just direct all of those questions to Harry, he’s the only one who seems to not have any boundaries. 

He leans back in his chair, trying to get comfortable when the doorbell rings, probably the mattress company, if he had to guess. 

“Oh, my,” Harry shouts, his hands held over his ears. “What’s that?”

“It means that people are here,” Louis says, crossing the room quickly. He peeks through the curtains and sees the delivery truck parked in front of the house. “It’s the people bringing your bed.”

“People?” Harry says, and Louis looks down to see that he’s standing behind him, peeking out the window with him. 

Louis turns in time to see Zayn running across the room and jumping into Niall’s arms, looking scared. “Harry, you should go over there with Niall. I’m going to let these people,” he says, gently pushing Harry in the direction of the other room. 

He opens the door and talks to the man behind it, telling him where he wants the bed set up and signs the papers that he gives him, watching as he goes back to the truck and gets to work. When Louis turns around, Niall, Harry and Zayn are missing, tucked away in the kitchen out of sight. 

~~~~ 

“Louis, what is this stuff?” Harry asks, rummaging through the open box on the floor. He’s knocked it over on his side, on his hands and knees inside of it and throwing stuff out. 

Louis smiles at him and shakes his head. “It’s blankets for the bed and pillows, stuff to make it more comfortable.” 

“Louis, this is so much stuffs,” Harry says, pulling out of the box to look around. 

Louis nods his head and tears open the packaging covering the sheets, tossing the trash on the floor to be cleaned up later when he’s finished. He starts with the fitted sheet, the logical approach towards making a bed. He bought it in navy, hoping it was color that everyone would be happy enough. 

“Harry, why aren’t you downstairs playing with Zayn?” Louis asks, moving around the bed to get the sheet on. 

“My Zayn is being very shy,” Harry says, sighing. “Those peoples without the tails scared him.”

Louis shoves the fitted sheet over the final corner and looks up at Harry. “Are people like me usually mean to you?” 

“Papa Niall doesn’t like us to talk to them, but I like talk to everyone. My Zayn tells me no.”

“Do you listen to him?” Louis asks, already knowing the answer, because he’s seen Zayn tell Harry not to talk to Louis, but he did it anyway. 

“Oh, yes,” Harry says, nodding his head and kicking at the bits of trash on the floor. “I always listen to my Zayn.”

Louis smiles. “I’m sure you do,” he says, dropping on the other sheet, the same navy color as the other. “Harry, do you want to help me put on this big fluffy blanket?” He picks up the duvet, it’s red and blue and white flannel pattern, the only other options available were ones with flowers, and he didn’t feel like a floral pattern. The flannel was more expensive, but it was Nick’s money, so why not use more than he would if it were his own?

“That’s very pretty,” Harry says, running his fingers across the duvet. 

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Louis says, laying it out on the bed by himself. Harry seems more content on staring at it than helping Louis, but he doesn’t mind. He smoothes the blanket out, flattening down to the bed before he throws the pillows that he put together on the bed, the two navy cased ones and the two flannel cased ones, along with the little decorative one that the company threw in for whatever reason. 

“Do you like it?” Louis asks, stepping back to admire his work. 

Harry doesn’t answer right away, so Louis glances down to look at him, watching as he crawls onto the bed and lies on his back. He spreads his arms and legs out wide, and then rolls over onto his stomach. 

“Why do you have beds like this?” Harry asks, sitting up and looking at Louis. 

Louis shrugs, bending down to pick up the trash that he threw on the ground. He’s able to hold it all in one hand and ends up kicking the bag for the duvet under the bed, not wanting to throw that out. “I don’t know,” he says eventually. “It’s nice, though. And warm, right?” 

“Your house is very warm,” Harry says, jumping down from the bed. “I never get the shivers like at my house. Sometimes I have to hug my Daddy for long times to get the shivers to stops, but my Daddy gives good hugs.”

“Tell me if you’re ever cold,” Louis says, grabbing the box in his free hand so he can break it down and toss it out. “Actually, what do you say we throw this out and then start a fire? Does that sound good?”

“Yes, but that’s not trash, Mr. Louis,” Harry says, gently tugging the box out of Louis’ hands. “That’s mine.”

“You want to keep it?” Louis asks, watching as Harry gently pushes the box across the floor until it’s pressed against the walls, tucked away in the corner. 

“Yes, it’s mine.” 

“What are you going to do with a box?” 

“Play with it,” Harry says, looking up at Louis like it’s obvious. “Sometimes my Zayn and I like to play, um, you know, the space people, and we need a box to get to space. My Zayn won’t go to space without a box, I tried.”

Louis sighs, once again reminded of the childhood that Harry has had thus far. It’s not unlike most children, coming up with creative ways to use anything that they can find. When he was a child, there was tree that was cut down that left behind a stump on the ground; he used to pretend that he could travel through time if he could stand on it. So he smiles at Harry, ruffling his curly hair, so much like his father’s, and says, “Well, then the box is yours.”

~~~~ 

Louis can’t sleep, not from lack of trying, because he has, for hours, or so the clock tells him. He’s lying in his own bed, the sheets smelling like someone that’s not him, traces of the other occupants from the past couple nights, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what a relief it’s been to know that Liam isn’t going anywhere. 

Louis sighs, tossing the mass of blankets aside and gets out of bed slowly, trying not to make any noise as to not wake the sleeping hybrids in the room next to his. He moves quietly, making a quick decision to peek into the other bedroom, wanting to make sure that they were all all right…and also wanting to make sure that they’re still there. 

When he pulls the bedroom door open, he can see the light filtering in through the window, casting a soft glow across their sleeping figures. All four of them are pilled into the bed. It starts with Liam on the edge, closest to the wall connecting to Louis’ room. He’s got his arm draped over Harry, his face pressed into the bed. Harry is clutching Zayn’s arm to his chest, the only bit of Zayn’s body that’s not wrapped up in Niall’s arms. Even in sleep Niall is protecting Zayn, doing his best to shelter him from everything, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind, the small kitten hybrid looks perfectly content. 

He closes the door quietly and heads downstairs, bypassing the living room and flicking on the kitchen lights. He gets a glass out of the cabinet, setting it down on the table and fills it with milk before he grabs the package of cookies in his pantry. He knows that you’re not supposed to eat late at night, knows that it’s bad for you, but he can’t sleep and he wants something comforting, something delicious like milk and cookies at two in the morning. 

The house is quiet as Louis eats, so quiet that he hears it when someone begins walking down the stairs. He sits up straighter, chewing his cookie a little faster, and is surprised, to say the least, when Niall’s head peeks out from the corner. 

“Oh,” Louis says, rubbing the back of his hand across his mouth. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” Niall says, looking at Louis and then at the cookies. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Louis nods and flushes, wondering if Niall was gripping Zayn like that because it’s something he always does, or if it’s because of Louis checking in on them. He’s not sure if he should apologize, so he doesn’t, instead he says, “You can sit down, if you’d like. I can get you a glass, if you want one, or you can help yourself.” 

Niall looks at him for a moment before he nods, getting his own glass of milk before he sits down at the table. He hesitantly reaches for a cookie, and Louis pushes the package closer, silently urging him to take one. “We don’t usually get cookies,” Niall says, quietly, picking at some of the crumbs before he dunks it in his milk. “We don’t usually have something soft to sleep on, either. It’s been hard adjusting.” 

Louis nods, unsure of what to say. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and make Niall stop talking, so he settles for, “You’re welcome to sleep on the couch, if you think it might be a better transition for you.” 

Niall shakes his head. “Zayn likes the bed.” 

Louis smiles at that. “I’m happy to hear that, he’s awfully quiet so I’m never sure what he’s thinking.” 

“He’s like Liam, he’s shy.” 

Louis chuckles lightly and fights down the twisting of his gut. Laughing because those are the words Harry uses to describe Zayn, confirming his suspicions that it’s something Harry is told on a repeated basis. And fighting the twist of his gut because it’s another reminder that these four are a family, something that saddens him, because Liam is daddy while Niall is papa and it’s…a lot to take in.

He doesn’t know what kind of family, but it doesn’t really matter, not really. 

“Can I ask why you hate me so much when we’re around the others?” Louis asks, his question coming from nowhere but a place of pure curiosity. 

“I don’t hate you,” Niall says, rubbing his thumb against his glass. 

Louis nods, not really believing him. “I know that I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it a million more, but I don’t just take people in off the streets. It’s not something that I do. There’s just… There’s something about Liam that keeps pulling me in and I just want him to be happy and safe and warm and to have everything that he needs. I don’t understand it, it’s the strangest thing, but I can’t let you all sleep in that tent. I feel like I physically can’t.”

He glances up and sees Niall looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighs, runs his fingers through his hair, stopping to scratch at his furry ears. “It’s your bond,” Niall says quietly, face scrunching up. 

“What? Bond?” Louis asks, confused. 

“Yeah, um. He’s your mate. Your souls are meant to bond,” Niall says easily, looking at Louis carefully. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“It’s not as strong for humans as it is for hybrids, but Liam’s a hybrid so you feel it stronger. Not as strong as Liam, but it’s there. That’s why he came with you and why he ran away, he was scared because you’re a human,” Niall mutters, tearing his gaze away from Louis’ and biting his lip. 

Louis mouth drops open, his limbs feel heavy and head fuzzy. He’s having trouble processing any of this. Everyone talks about soul mates and mating amongst animals, but he’s never… It’s not a concept that he understands between people. He doesn’t understand the idea of souls bonding and what it means to be someone’s mate in a way that doesn’t lead to breeding, something he, as a male, and Liam, as another male, will never be able to accomplish. 

It’s all a bit much, and it’s too late in the night, and he could really use another cookie or three, anything to help him process this information.

“It’s the same with Harry and Zayn,” Niall says quickly, picking up like his words haven’t had any sort of effect on Louis, like they haven’t made his jaw drop open. “It’s not official, like with you and Liam, but it’s there. They haven’t sealed the bond, but they will. One day, when they’re older. It’s why Harry calls Zayn his.”

Louis doesn't know how to react to any of this.


	10. Chapter 10

Louis is tired, not having slept much the night before. It was a combination of things, like finding out that he has a soul mate, knowing that he has a soul mate but he’s sharing a bed with someone else and their, kind of, two children. And all right, it’s definitely the bit about the soul mate, the entire thing, not just it divided up into little pieces, but the entirety of it all, because just yesterday, he was single and living his life as best he could.

But now, now he has a soul mate in his kitchen making his son breakfast.

It’s a little surreal, and Louis has a hard time understanding it.

He spent the entire night researching soul mates on the Internet, reading around on different theories to see what’s being said about it all. Most of it comes down to the same thing, a deep lifelong connection to someone that exists in an exclusive bond. There are theories that soul mates can be anyone, they can be your friend, your lover, anyone. But he knows, remembers the look on Niall’s face when he told him that this doesn’t refer to Louis and Liam striking up a great friendship that is going to last a lifetime.

They’re not going to be friends that understand each other, friends that rely on each other, that hold each other up when the other is down. They’re meant to be one, they’re meant to be lovers and partners and mates.

Some experts claim that soul mates are an unrealistic expectation that people have, a fantasy that exists to make them believe something great is out there waiting for them. But in every fantasy he’s ever had, every thought of his life and whom he’d share his life with never started in the winter with a hybrid.

The thought kept him up at night, because it’s a lot to take in, especially when the information is dumped on you in the middle of the night.

He wonders if that’s what happened before, if he’s not the first person to find his soul mate.

~~~

Louis is working on Nick’s laundry, his friend slash boss leaning against the dryer and washing as he dumps the clothes in the washing machine. Louis knows that he wants to help, but one too many times slapping Nick’s hand away has stopped him. He’d like to earn the money, even if after he does this, he’s going to clean his dishes and then he’s going to see if Nick wants to watch a movie, something that’s not cleaning.

“How are things with the hybrids? You’ve been awfully quiet about them and you know me, I’m dying to know what’s going on,” Nick mumbles, raising his eyebrows at Louis when he glances up.

“It’s fine,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders and sifting through the pile of clothes to find more whites.

“So they’re still there?”

“Yeah, I guess now that all of them are in one location, it’s much easier to want to stay,” Louis answers, not wanting to mention anything about the soul mates, at least not yet, because Nick has this huge problem with them and Louis would rather not listen to Nick list off reasons about how it’s a giant lie, one that’s been schemed up to try and take everything Louis owns, or to kill him, something outrageous that only Nick could come up with.

“Well, don’t sound so excited about it,” Nick mutters, rolling his eyes.

“I am excited.”

“You don’t sound it.”

“Maybe because I’m being pestered for information while I dig around through your dirty briefs.”

“Nice try, but I did wash those before you arrived, so I know that’s not it. But it’s all right, have your secrets. I couldn’t careless that you don’t want to tell me whatever secret you’re hiding.” Nick sniffs and folds his arms over his chest, examining his names.

Louis sighs and slams the washing machine door closed, dumps in the detergent, and then presses the start button before he makes the decision to talk to Nick, because he needs to talk to someone. “Make me tea and then we’ll talk.”

“Shouldn’t you be making me tea? You are on the clock,” Nick says, but he’s already walking out of the room.

Louis follows behind him and drops down at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for Nick to finish making tea. He takes the time to gather his thoughts, tries to filter through the information of everything that Niall told him the night before. It wasn’t much, but it’s enough that Louis knows that he has to the basic facts, the bare minimum of what this thing with Liam might mean.

It’s a few minutes later when Nick is sliding a steaming hot mug across the table as he takes the seat next to Louis.

Louis lifts up his mug, blowing across the top of it for a second before he decides to speak. “The reason that Liam wouldn’t stay with me every time that I brought him back, or well, the reason that I think he wouldn’t, is because he’s got a family of sorts.”

“His son?” Nick questions.

“No, well. Yes, but not just his son. There’s another little boy and a man, Liam’s son, Harry, calls him Papa Niall, so they’re like a family in a way.”

Nick nods, taking a sip of his tea. He looks like he’s thinking, trying to form his words carefully as he swallows the hot liquid. “So are they like, a family? Like, a proper family where those are their children and they’re together and in love? Or, what?”

Louis shakes his head. “No, they’re not together.”

“And you’re sure?”

“Yeah, um. See, Niall, the other adult hybrid, he’s shown signs of not really being fond of me. I thought it was because of the fact that I kept coming back for Liam and kind of dragging him away and stuff. So I asked him about it last night, neither of us could sleep and ended up in the kitchen together.”

“What’d he say?”

“He said that he doesn’t hate me, and I didn’t really believe him, but then he went on to explain that it’s because of my bond to Liam.”

“Your bond,” Nick repeats, taking another sip of his tea. “Because you kept going back for Liam?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Louis mumbles, shrugging. “He said it’s why Liam kept running off, because Liam was scared about what the bond meant. He mentions soul mates and stuff, like how hybrids feel it stronger, I guess because they’re more connected to animals than we are? I don’t know, it’s all really confusing.”

Nick’s chewing on his lip and rubbing his thumb along the tea mug, nodding his head in understanding and that’s… Shouldn’t Nick be shocked? Shouldn’t Nick have an abundance of questions for him, something that let’s Louis know that yeah, it’s a little bit crazy, and yeah, he’s not the only one to be thrown for a loop.

“You don’t look surprised,” Louis says, accusing. “Why don’t you look surprised?”

Nick sighs. “I am surprised.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m surprised about you and Liam.”

“But?”

Nick sighs again and sets his mug down on the table. “But I’ve heard about the soul mate theory before, the bond or whatever you want to call it.”

“How?” Louis asks, because this is the very first time that something like this has happened to him, this new sort of information that throws soul mates into a whole new category in his mind.

“When I was growing up we had a hybrid, we got him while I was in high school. His name was RJ and he was a couple years older than I was, I guess you’d call him the family pet,” Nick mumbles, scratching nervously at his shoulder. “I mean, you know how it is, hybrids are either pets or you know, your servant or whatever.”

Louis wants to ask why Nick never told him that, not like it’s really something that would have come up in conversation until recently, but still. He’d like to know something like this about a friend, even if it is a minor detail about his life. “And he told you about soul mates?”

Nick nods. “Yeah, he’d been with us for about three years. And um, I was seventeen and he started telling me more about hybrids, his family, everything. It was during that when he mentioned bonds and the way that two people are meant to be one.” Nick pauses, taking a deep breath and rubbing his thumb along the edge of the table, staring at the mug in front of him. “He kept talking about it and I, stupidly, believed that he was trying to tell me something, so I convinced myself that we were soul mates, fell in love with him, and when I was nineteen, I woke up one morning and he was gone. Never came back.”

Louis bites his lip and nods, because he gets it now. He understands why Nick has been a little less than supportive throughout this whole thing, always warning Louis to be careful. He hadn’t expected it though, had thought that possibly Nick was just…being Nick, doing things that Louis doesn’t understand for reasons that Louis doesn’t understand.

“So that’s why I’m not surprised about the soul mates, but I do feel like I should have known about you and Liam. It makes sense, you talking about this almost primal need to have him with you,” Nick mutters, shaking his head and smiling before taking a careful sip of his tea.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Nick holds a hand up, cutting Louis off. “Don’t do that. It’s—I don’t need an apology, not from you, not from him, not from anyone.”

“Okay,” Louis mumbles, nodding his head. “But thank you for telling me, it’s nice to know that I’m not the only human out there with a uh, hybrid situation.”

“Nah, you’d never get that lucky,” Nick teases, winking at him over the top of his mug. “I might not know what it’s like to be in your shoes, but I’d be happy to help in anyway that I can.”

Louis nods. “Well, in that case, after I throw your laundry in the dryer, do you want to take me to some stores? I want to buy them some clothes.”

~~~~

“Mr. Louis, you’ve been gone for seven days,” Harry shouts when Louis finally gets his front door open. He drops the bags in his hands down on the ground, steps back outside to get the few that he had to set down to unlock the door, and then finally is able to step into his home to take off his coat and boots.

“Was I?” Louis asks, smiling down at Harry. “I brought you gifts, though. Does that make up for being gone so long?”

“What about my Zayn?”

“I have gifts for your Zayn, for your Daddy, and for Niall,” Louis confesses, watching as a grin spreads across Harry’s face. He kicks his boots off and throws his coat on the ground, figuring that he can get to it later and gathers up the bags. Everyone is sitting down in the living room, looking at him curiously.

“He has a gift,” Harry says, moving across the room quickly and diving onto Liam’s lap.

“Louis,” Niall starts to say, but Louis holds up a hand to stop him, knowing that Niall is going to argue with him about it.

“Listen, I would do this for anyone, okay? And it’s nothing major, just. You guys need things, okay?” Louis explains, looking at Niall, who is staring back at him with an unreadable expression, and then Liam, who nods, not like he agrees, but like he understands what Louis is saying. “All right, so it’s just like. I got clothes, yeah? I wasn’t sure what sizes to get, but I guessed based on how you look in mine and based on how old I think Zayn and Harry are.”

“Mr. Louis, I’m four,” Harry explains, looking at Louis seriously. “My Zayn is five.” He says five like it’s a virus, something gross that he doesn’t want.

“Four? Well, that’s the perfect age to be my helper,” Louis says, watching as a grin breaks out on Harry’s face. He grabs the bag that he made for Liam, the one filled with pants specifically made for hybrids and a brand new collection of shirts. It’s not enough to fill up his own closet, but it’s more than what he had before. And Louis is still willing to share his own clothing, but he figures Niall and Liam might like their own. “Give this to your Daddy.”

“This is for Daddy,” Harry says, setting the bag down on the floor in front of Liam. He rips it open and starts pulling stuff out, handing it to Liam. “Oh Daddy, you gots some stuffs in here. You gots new pants and everything.”

“Thank you,” Liam mumbles, mostly to Harry but his gaze flicks up to Louis’ for a moment and Louis knows that it’s also for him.

“All right, now it’s time for Niall.”

Harry rushes over and hands the bag off to Niall, doing the same for him that he did for Liam, except this time Zayn helps root through the bag, helps him pass everything to Niall.

“Now, Harry, this one is for you,” Louis explains, patting the bag that’s sitting next to him. “But this one is for Zayn.”

Harry rips the bag from Louis’ hand. “My Zayn, I got you some things.”

Niall clears his throat.

“Thank you, Harry,” Zayn says quietly and Louis smiles, because he’s not expecting thank yous from anyone, but it’s cute to see Harry taking credit and for Zayn to thank him for him.

Harry ignores his bag in favor of watching Zayn go through his, gasping every time Zayn pulls something out. It’s the happiest that Louis has seen Zayn, going through a plastic bag of sweaters and pants and pajamas and even little hybrid underwear with cartoon characters on them that Louis thought were too cute to pass up, knowing they’d need them anyway justifying his purchase.

Harry goes through his bag much the same, except he allows Zayn to help him, the two of them comparing clothes until Niall and Liam instruct them to say a final thank you to Louis.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Louis says, knowing that he has one more bag left. It’s not filled with much, but it’s the only thing that Louis paid for during his shopping trip, Nick taking care of the rest of it. He tried to argue against it, but Nick had insisted that he has more than enough money for one person, and it’s just clothing and not like a new house or car or something.

He pulls the bag open slowly and pulls out two stuffed bears, one of them a bit larger than the other, the larger one a pale cream color and the smaller one a tannish color.

“Wow,” Harry says, stepping forward and grabbing the smaller bear. He stares at it in amazement as Zayn steps forward and takes the larger one.

They look happy and excited and amazed, and completely and utterly thrilled with their bears. And it settles a nerve that was building up inside of Louis, one that has been silently clawing at his skin since he bought the pair of them. It’s not much of a gift, not much of a toy, but Harry and Zayn have been playing with boxes, so Louis figures that they’re not going to care if they don’t have any of the fancier toys that other kids their age probably have.

“Mr. Louis, this is the very bestest, ever,” Harry says, leaning forward and hugging Louis before he pulls away smiling.

“Thank you,” Zayn says, setting his very gently down on the couch and sitting down next to it.

“Can we watch the picture box?” Harry asks, turning to look at Liam with a pout, trying his hardest to get Liam to say what he wants him to say. It works, because Liam is nodding and standing up, already grabbing the remote while Niall begins to gather up all the clothing, shoving them back into their bags.

Louis makes to stand up, wants to help them wash the clothes and maybe even get started on dinner, he can’t remember what he has that he can cook for the night, but Niall is waving at him, motioning for him to stay sitting as Harry sits down on the couch between him and Zayn.

“Louis, can you scratch my ears?” Harry asks, shifting around so that he’s got his head in Louis’ lap. “Right here.” He points to a part of his scalp; the base of his hears where the hair is soft and curly.

Louis glances up towards Liam, seeing that he’s smiling at him and decides that it’s okay to scratch the kitten’s ear for him while he watches a movie.

~~~~

After dinner, when Niall has Zayn and Harry in the bath, Louis finds Liam alone in the kitchen cleaning their dishes from dinner. Liam smiles at him when he walks into the room but doesn’t move from in front of the sink, instead he keeps cleaning, and Louis takes a seat at the table.

“Niall told me, you know,” He says, watching Liam’s back carefully. Liam shuts the water off and dries his hands on a towel, turning around, there’s a question in his eyes. “He told me that we’re soul mates.”

Liam’s eyes widen and he looks scared for a moment, like he wants to flee, wants to rush out of Louis’ house like he did before, so Louis says, “I’m not angry about it, just wanted you to know that he told me.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam mutters, rubbing at his face and tugging at his ears. His tail wraps around his waist, holding onto him firmly, anchoring him. “I’m sorry.”

“Liam, don’t be sorry,” Louis says, frowning. “I told you that I’m not angry, and I’m not. I’m just… I’m curious is all.”

“Curious?” Liam says, slowly, tasting the word. “Why?”

“I don’t really understand it,” Louis says, honest.

Liam looks confused for a moment, like he’s torn between two things, but eventually, after several painstaking moments, he says, “It means that our souls are split in half, they’re two pieces of one.”

“This is like, it’s crazy,” Louis says. “Not in a bad way, just like. How did you know?”

Liam shrugs and points to his chest, the area where his heart is like it holds all the answers. “Felt it.”

“What’d it feel like?” Louis asks, because all he can remember feeling is this desire to protect Liam, to have him close and keep him safe. Niall said hybrids feel it differently, feel it stronger.

“I felt dizzy and happy, overwhelmed. My heart beat changed.”

“What do you mean?” Louis says, looking at Liam, because he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know if it’s Liam’s way of saying that his heart was racing or it skipped a beat, something.

Liam doesn’t answer, instead he lifts one of Louis’ hands and presses it to his own heart before placing the other over Louis’ chest, letting him the synchronized rhythms of their hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a lovely picture of Harry and Zayn with stuffed bears that inspired the bit about Louis' gifts. I didn't make this [image](https://38.media.tumblr.com/40237cf89eaff4c866373c8774c032c6/tumblr_ndnt2pkGNq1s4qm5oo1_500.png), but I couldn't find who did to give proper credit, unfortunately. 
> 
> NOTE, PLEASE READ: I do have intentions of finishing this story, however, it's VERY LOW on my priority list. Please give me time, please respect that time, and please be patient with me.


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